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LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, 

«- WITH A 

SECRET HISTOEY 

OF 

THE SOUTHEPJ COXFEDERACY, 



GATHERED 

"BEHIND THE SCENES IN RICHMOND." 

CONTAIXING 

CURIOUS AND EXTRAORDINARY INFORMATION OF THE PRINCIPAL 

SOUTHERN CHARACTERS IN THE LATE WAR, IN CONNECTION 

WITH PRESIDENT DAVIS, AND IN RELATION TO THE 

VARIOUS INTRiaUES OF HIS ADMINISTRATION. 



EDWAED A. EOLLAED, 

ArriHou OF "the lost cause," etc., etc. 



Issued by subscription only, and not for sale in the book stores. Residents of any State desiring 
a copy should aJJiess the publishers, itnd an a§^tttr'\firrcalti>iiqu them. 



NATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY, 

PHILADELPHIA, PA.; CHICAGO, ILL.; ST. LOULS, MO. 

ATLANTA, GA. 



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.l]jt,T 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

J. R. J N E S, 

In the Clerk's OfiBee of the District Court of the United States, in and for the 
Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



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PREFACE. 



I HAVE long meditated writing the life of Jeflerson 
Davis, and divulging in this work a mass of curious 
and extraordinary information which I have possessed, 
concerning the private and interior history of his Gov- 
ernment, in Richmond. It was a most remarkable 
singularity of the Southern Confederacy, that, though 
holding out to the world the forms of Republican Gov- 
ernment, it was as closely veiled in its operations, as 
secret and recluse as the most absolute and arrogant 
despotism. Thus many things happened behind that 
curtain which Mr. Davis so studiously spread before 
his Government, of which the world has as yet no 
knowledge, and of which even people living in Rich- 
mond, and in the shadow of that Government, have had 
,only the faintest conception, or, at best, a chequered 
and imperfect revelation. 

The writer may say, without vanity or self-assertion, 
that he is peculiarly fitted to be the biographer of 
Jefferson Davis. He was near him during the whole 
war. He had occasion to study his character assidu- 

(iii) 



IV PREFACE. 

ously, and to pursue him in his administration with a 
curious and critical industry; and his opportunities as 
a journalist, in Richmond, enabled him to learn much 
of the veiled mysteries and inner scenes of the weak 
and anomalous government that wrecked the fortunes 
of the Southern Confederacy. The writer thus ob- 
tained much of the secret and unwritten history of the 
Confederacy, involving Mr. Davis ; information which, 
for obvious causes, he could not give to the newspaper 
press, and which, since the war, he has not yet pub- 
lished in any of his memoirs, for peculiar and im- 
pressive reaso7is. 

The fact is, the writer has been, for a long time, 
persuaded by friends standing between him and the 
Confederate President, to withhold the work he now 
contemplates, as it was thought it would give informa- 
tion concerning various conspiracies and vengeful plots 
in the war, which might be used against Mr. Davis 
on his expected trial, or might inflame against him a 
fatal prejudice. For this reason alone, the writer has, 
for a long time, deferred the publication he has now 
determined upon ; and he may claim that in this he 
has shown an extreme and punctilious regard for Mr. 
Davis's safety. But he can no longer defer to this 
solicitude for Mr. Davis ; it has become a mere punc- 
tilio, since there is no longer now a reasonable expec- 
tation that the Ex-President will ever be brought to 
trial, or be disturbed in the foreign land, in which he 
is reported to have descended to the commonplaces of 



PREFACE. V 

trade and an unnoticed existence. At least, it would 
be unreasonable that the writer should longer weigh a 
calculation so tender and remote against a debt severely 
due to history. 

Jefferson Davis should have a truthful and acute 
biographer, one who would do something more than 
echo the shallow clamors and interested opinions of 
the day. Whatever the estimate of his person, he 
performed a great part in history; and his character, 
mixed, angular, abounding in surprises, full of caprices 
and apjDarent inconsistencies, is precisely that which 
affords the most interesting and vivid subjects for 
biography. The writer is conscious of attempting a 
high and difficult task — an extraordinary work. He 
comes to it not only with ample literary preparation, 
but with an unusual animation. He has been accused 
of personal hostility to Mr. Davis; and is to-day, 
perhaps, in all his literary capacities, most widely 
known to the country as censor of the Confederate 
Chief. He repels the accusation of any prejudice, in 
the very front of his work ; he is able and willing to 
do exact justice to Mr. Davis ; and if he ever attacked 
him it was through supreme devotion to a great cause, 
and from a just resentment toward the man who mis- 
guided and wrecked it. 

Those who suppose that they will find in the work 
of the writer a declamation against Mr. Davis — a 
mere amplitude of rhetoric, or an excess of passion — 
will be disappointed. The writer designs to give 



VI PREFACE. 

facts, many of them now, and all of them capable of 
di.stinct and impressive evidence. lie proposes to 
address himself to the serious and inevitable historical 
question : — Whoioere responsible for the faiJnre of the 
Southern Confederacy? — and on this issue he will 
insist upon asserting that rule familiar to the world, 
that those who assume power are responsible for its 
discharge, according to the exact measure of their 
assumption, and that responsibility in any great cause 
is not to be squandered through subordinates. To do 
this, indeed, would be to scatter and enfeeble all the 
lessons of history; to render impossible its unity of 
narrative and to nullify its philosophy. Responsi- 
bility must rest somewhere in history; it naturally 
and inevitably ascends ; and in regarding Mr. Davis as 
the prime cause of the failure of the South in the 
late war, the author has but simply recognized and 
submitted to the great law of logic in historical com- 
position : — that, in political affairs, where a certain 
result is clearly not an accident or misadventure, but 
must have come from a well defined cause, that cause 
ultimately and inevitably rests in the head of the 
government. 

As the author has said in another historical work : 
'' Jefferson Davis cannot escape the syllogism that has 
been applied to every public ruler since the world 
began. However he may be plastered with ^glitter- 
ing generalities ;' however paltry publications may con- 
sult the passions of the hour; however newspapers, 



PREFACE. VU 

made up of di.sh-water and the paste-pot, may depre- 
cate the vigorous hiquiries of history and counsel the 
suppression of unpleasant facts; however partisans 
may dress the leaders in garish colors and the brilliant 
and exaggerated uniform of a class, the question comes 
at last : How are those failures of the Confederacy, 
which are accounted errors, and not misfortunes, to be 
ascribed, if not to the folly of rulers ? Mr. Davis was 
supreme in his administration, and singularly unem- 
barrassed in directing and controlling public affairs. 
There was no question of disconcerted authority. For 
the major part of his administration he had a servile 
Congress, a Caljinet of dummies, and a people devoted 
to his person." * ''' * "' 

In these circumstances, the responsibility of President 
Davis was well defined, and, taken along with his au- 
tocracy, was almost exclusive. But it is not necessary 
to insist upon this rigidity of construction. The author 
has simply sought to place Mr. Davis in his true logical 
position as President of the Southern Confederacy. He 
has not been content to rest on secondary causes, or 
disposed to enter the province of hypothesis and over- 
refinements ; and he has done nothing more than apply 
t^j Mr. Davis's four years of Presidential life the same 
rule of responsibility that is familiar in all history, 
and has been applied to every administration of puljlic 
affairs in the annals of America. 

It is thus that the author, with no disaffection 
toward Mr. Davis, and with no desirrn to discriminate 



Tlii PREFACE, 

personally agaiust him, yet feels impelled by the 
reasonable logic of history to make him, as it were, a 
head and centre of responsibility in the late war, and 
to gather around him the causes of the failure of the 
Southern Confederacy. He risks himself upon the 
facts of his work, not upon its ingenuity. He designs 
a severe narrative, and he challenges the naked appli- 
cation to it of the common rules of logic. It has 
already been said that Mr. Davis had determined to 
reply to this work. If so, he is welcomed to the task, 
and is challenged to the combat. He shall have facts 
to oppose ; and in such conspicuous, stern, and unre- 
lenting contest, the world will decide who falls, who 
retreats, or who covers himself with defeat. 

Finally, the writer, careless as he is in the just 
sense of history of the person of Mr. Davis, and dis- 
daining whatever criticisms may grow out of personal 
feelings, is yet sensible that he has undertaken a 
great and serious work, and protests that he ap- 
proaches it in a becoming and collected spirit. He 
attempts no mean and evanescent commentary on the 
late war. In betaking himself to a literary task, ex- 
celling all his former ones, and in which he is fired by 
various desires, he proudly ventures to produce a 
work that will not only interest these present times, 
but that " will live " permanently and assuredly, if 
even among the humbler monuments of the liistorical 
literature of America. 

EDWARD A. POLLARD. 



CONTEISTTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 

A Theory of tlis Greatness of Men — Two Interestiug Rollections — A now llule in tho Composi- 
tion of lUography — Application of it to JefTurson Davis 18 

CHAPTER I. 

Life of Mr. Davis Anterior to the War — His Karly Military Career — Abrupt Kesignation of 
It — Elglit Years of Itetirement — An Karly Insiglit into Mr. Davis's Character — Passion 
for Self-Culture — His 8tuilent-IJfe — An Imperfect Intellectual Character as tho Result of 
Solitude — Mr. Davis's First Koniarkablo Ailvonturo in Public Life — Tho " Pons Asiu- 
oruni" — Curious Kxplanation of a Slander — Mr. Davis and tho Mississippi "Repudia- 
tion" — His Career in the Mexican War — Tho "V" Movement at Ruena Vista — Return 
of Mr. Davis to Congress — His Senatorial Career 17 

CHAPTER II. 

Mr. Davis in tho Senate of tho United States — Distinction as an Orator — Definition of tho 
term " Eloquence" — Mr. Davis in tho World of Letters — Brilliant Remnant of his Repu- 
tation — His Stylo as a Speaker — His Figure and Manners in the Senate — Tho art of" Self- 
continence" in Oratory — Reference to Stephen A. Douglas — His "Specialty" — Anecdotes 
of his Life — How Jefterson Davis Compared with tho " Littlo Ciiaut " — Tho Former Scorns 
"Quarter" — Tho Kansas Controversy — Mr. Davis's Reply to Douglas — A burst of 
Temper — A Noble Speech — The Senatorial Career of Mr. Davis, tho Most Honorable 
Part of bis Public Life 27 

CHAPTER III. 

Tho Election of Abraham Lincoln, President, not tho cause of tho war — A Peculiar Aris- 
tocracy in tho South — ^Tho Power of this Section in tho hands of Politicians rather than 
Slaveholders — Remarkable Speeches in tho Convention of South Carolina — Tho State 
Convention Mure Puppets — Tho Centre of the Conspiracy at Washington — Jeffersou 
Davis Among tho Conspirators — Critical Examination of Ilis Record on tho Question of 
Disunion — Its Inconsistency — His Early Extravagances for tho Union — His Conduct in 
Congress in 1850 — Prophetic Warning of Henry Clay — Mr. Davis's Ambition to succeed Cal- 
houn — His Effrontery — Connection with the " Resistanco" Party of Mississippi as its Can- 
didate for Oovornor — His Remaikablo Explanation of tho Designs of this Party — Incou- 
sistoncy of this Explanation — Mr. Davis enters tho Cabinet of I'resident I'ierco as a Union 
Mau— Repudiates tho "Resistanco" Party — Ills Kespousibility for tho Kaneas-Nohraslca 

1 



^ CONTENTS. 

Bill — TTtiion Spepcli in Mississiinii — >Ir. Pavis ]?cgnnls tlio Kansas Sotllonieiit as a Ti'i- 
umph for tho South — IIo is Bit by tho Ambition for a ProsiJential Nomination — An 
Electioneering Tour in Now York ami Maine— "Slaver" of Fraternal AlTei'tinu— Insin- 
cerity of Mr. Davis's Record on the Question of Disunion— The Cause of the South Dis- 
figured by tho Ambition of its Leaders, but not therefore to be Dishonored— A Brief 
History of Disunion — Tlio South Suftored from a General Apprehension Rather than a 
Specific Alarm — Tho Action of her Politicians, neitlier a Test of Ilor Spirit, nor a Measure 
of the Justice of Ilcr Cause— The Condition of Washington, iu December, 18G0 43 

CHAPTER IV. 

Remarkable Effect of the Messatce of President Buchanan — A Spectacle in tho AVhite House 
— A Singular Pause in the Movement of Secession — Mr. Keitt's Remarks on tho Situa- 
tion — Tho Southern Loaders Actually Abandon tho Scheme of Disunion — It is Resumed 
on Major Anderson's Occ\ipation of Port Sumter — A Question of Concealed Importanco— 
Hovr tho Question of " tho Ports " determined tho AVar — Mr. Floyd's Adroitness — Secret 
History of the Junta of Fourteen in Washington — A Revolutionary Cotnicil iu the 
Shadow of the Capitol — Their Extraordinary Usurpations — Jefferson Davis and "tho 
Committee of Throe " — True Date of tho Commencoment of the Wai- — Why Mr. Davis 
was Chosen Leader — In tho First Programme of tho Southern Confederacy, R. M. T. 
Hunter of A''irginia, Designed for President — How ho Lost tho Position of Leader — A 
Fatal Motion in tho Senate — Comparison of tho Claims of Hunter and Davis for the 
Position of Loader 58 

CHAPTER V. 

The Sectional Debate in the United Stales Senate — How DilToreut from that in the House 
of Representatives — Intellectual Poverty of the Debate iu Congress — Explanation of 
this — A Game of Pretences — A Class oflntennodiate Politicians Sincerely Affected — Refer- 
ences to Crittenden and Douglas — Andrew .Tohnsou the Champion Par Excellence, of the 
Union — His Extraordinary Life — Compared with Jefferson Davis — Johnson's Literary 
Style — What Senator Douglas Thought of Him — His Extraordinary Courage — Mr. Davis's 
Singular Criticism of Johnson — Reticouce of the Former in the Debate in tho Senate — 
His Explanation of the Secession Sentiment — Sinister Conduct — He offers an Amendment 
to tho Constitution — Andrew Johnson's Appeals for the Union — A Curious History of the 
Vote on the Crittenden Resolutions — Colloquy of Johnson and Benjamin — Mr. Davis 
makes His Farewell Speech in the Senate — Wigfall's Picture of the Dead Union — Last 
Effort in tho Senate to Save tho Peace of the Country — A Memorable Scene 67 

CHAPTER VI. 

Organization of the Confederate Government, at Montgomery — Mississippi Proposes a South- 
ern Confederacy — Singular Instance of Rebellion Unchallenged — Explanation of the Re- 
missness of the North — Tlie Error of Mr. Lincoln — Secession as a Popular Sentiment, and 
Secession as a.i Organized Fact — Failure of tho North to Distinguish between the Tvvo^ 
Rapid Action of the Montgomery Government — Interesting Historical Problem as to the 
Extent of the Idea of ''Reconstruction" in tho Sauthern Mind — Mr. Davis had no such 
\i\cA — Why not — His Defiant Speeches at Montgomery — Evidence of a Popular Senti- 
ment in the South for " Reconstruction" — Why it was Ineffectual — Extraordinary and 
remarkable Exclusion of tho Popular Element from tho Southern Confederacy — A Usur- 
pation almost Unparalleled iu History 87 



CONTENTS. 
CHAPTER VII. 

Causes which iletermincil Mr. Davis's Election as PiesiJont of tho CoufcJfiratfe States — 
Tho claims of Uowell Cubb Secretly considered at Montgomery — Davis'H Kesentnient of 
Cobb as a Possible Rival — Popular Congratulations on the Selection of Mr. Davis a« 
Leader — His Qualifications fur such a Position — Steady Line of Distinction between Davis 
and tho South — A Katal Weakness of the New President — An Attempt to Define tho 
Objects of the War — Mr. Davis as a "Mixed" Character — A Remarkable Presentiment at 
Montgomery — A Criticism of Mr. Davis in Anticipation of His Administration 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The Fire on Fort Sumter— The First Shot of the War— Congratulations in President Davis's 
Cabinet — Thu Second Socessionary Movement, — Fatal Mistake of Mr. Lincoln — Tie Adds 
a now Breadth to the War — Preparations at Montgomery — Mr. Davis and an OlHce-Seeker — 
Secret Design of Mr. Davis in his Display of Military Preparations — Sudden Disappearance 
of the Union Party Accounted for — Secession of Virginia — A Torch-Light Procession in 
Richmond — Robert E. Leo Appoii/ted Commander-in-Chief of the Virginia Forces — Ilis 
Motives in Leaving tho Federal Service — His Political Opinions — The Character — His 
Fallacy of "Petitio Principii" — General Leo Accepting a Sword in the State-House — 
The Confederate States Government Removed to Richmond — Howell Cobb's Pledge for 
tho Congressmen — Arrival of President Davis in Richmond — Popular Raptures — Eloijuent 
Speeches of tho President — "No Surrender.".. 109 

CHAPTER IX. 

Some Account of tho City of Richmond — A Provincial City before the W.ar — What its Deco- 
ration as Capital of tho Confederacy cost it — Early Scones of the War in Richmond — 
Brilliant and Picturesque Days — A Confederate Soldier and a Little Lady — The Red 
River Men — Early Clamor for Aggressive Warfare — Why it was Impossible at This Time — 
"On-to-Washington" — Horace Greeley wants tho War Limited to a Single Battle — Tho 
Great Victory of Manassas — The Three Stages of tho Battle — President Davis on tho 
Field — A Curious Omtrelemps — How Mr. Davis was disappointed by General Beaurfgard — 
Instance of his Personal Courage on tho Field — A Night Scone at General Beauregard's 
Quarters — Singular Figure of the President 129 

CHAPTER X. 

The South Intoxicated by the Victory of Manassas — Who was Responsible for not Pursuing 
the Enemy to Washington — A Larger and nioro Important Question than tliat — The Tiuo 
History of a Secret and Notable Council of War — President Davis Rejects tho Advice of his 
Three Principal Generals — Ho Decides for tho Policy of Dispersion or Frontier-Defence — 
A Glance at the Character of General .Johnston — President Davis's Quarrel with General 
Beauregard — An Interval of Infamous Intrigues at Riclimond — How Mr. Hunter was 
Driven from tho Cabinet — Conceit of tlio President — "Waiting for Europe" — Demoraliza^ 
tion of Inactive Annies — Rapid Corruption of Society in Richmond — "The Wickedest 
City" — Mr. Davis at a Fancy Dre.ss Ball — Unpopular Conduct of liis Wife — Anecdote of tho 
President — Criticism of a "Tar Heel " — Mr. Davis and tho Faitliful Sentinel of the Libby 
Prison — A Historical Parallel — Connubial Fondness of Mr. Davis — His Collection of Small 
and Mean Favorites — A Curious Sort of Obstinacy, and some Reflections thereon Ill 



4 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XI. 

President Davis ijliiying the Adorned Conqueror — Decay of the Confederacy — Review of 
the Military Situation — Share of Congress in the Mahidministration of Sir. Davis — Weak 
and Infamous Character of tliat Body — IIow it Expelled the Best Intellect of the South — 
A Notable Rule against Military Officers — IIow the rolitical Affairs of the Confederacy 
were Entirely Surrendered to Mr. Davis and his Party — Two Measures that Brought the 
South to the Brink of Ruin — The Army of Virginia almost Disbanded — Protests of Oene- 

, rals Johnston and Beauregard — The Civil or Internal Administration of Mr. Davis -Its 
Intellectual Barrenness — Not One Act of Statesmanship in the Whole History of the 
Confederacy — Richmond a Reflex of Washington — A New Rule by which to Measure Mr. 
Davis's Responsibility — A Literary Dyspeptic, with more Ink than Blood in his Veins — 
Comjilaints Breaking Out Against Mr. Davis — Ilia Vaunt of the Blockade as a Blessing 
in Disguise — Dethronement of King Cotton — Extreme Scarcity of Ax'Uis at the South 159 

CHAPTER XII. 

The Finances of the Southern Confederacy — Early Measures of Taxation at Jlonteoinery — 
A Civil List Voted of a Million and a half Dollars; — The Five Million Loan — Deficiency of 
American Politicians in Finance — Extreme and Grotesque Ignorance of Mr. Davis om this 
Subject — Secretary Memminger a Curiosity in his Cabinet — A Race of Absurd Fancies — , 
History of the Produce Loan — Extravagant Expectations from it — Its Complete and 
Ludicrous Failure — Mr. Do Bow's Office "To Let" — The Confederate Government Aban- 
dons its First Proposition of Finance — How the Connnissariat was Relieved — History of 
a Grand Financial Scheme — Proposition for the Government to Buy all the Cotton in the 
South — Extraordinary Virtues of this Scheme — It might have Decided the War — IIow 
Mr. Memminger Derided the Scheme — Mr. Davis's After-thought in the Prison at Fort- 
ress Monroe — A Shallow and Miserable Subterfuge — Supplements of the Financial Policy 
of the Confederacy — Conversion of Private Debts Duo iu the North — The Sequestra- 
tion Law — The Administration of Mr. Davis Cliallcnged on it — A Scathing Denunciation 
by Mr. Pettigru, of South Carolina — Mr. Davis attempts to Use the Credit of the 
States — He Fails in this Recourse — His Government Thrown Back to the Beginiling of 
its Financial Policy — He Proposes Paper Money as a Panacea — Distinction Between Cur- 
rency and Beveuito — Stupidity of Mr. Davis in Financial Matters — The First Seeds of 
Corruption Sown in the Confederate Finance — Jlr. Memminger's Funding Juggle — 
"Flush Times" iu Richmond — Silly Self-Congratulations of the President — The Road to 
Ruin 171 

CHAPTER XIII. 

John M. Daniel's New Year's Article — A Philosopher's Mourn for the Union — No Thought 
yet of the Subjugation of the South — Analysis of the Popular Sentiment, concerning Presi- 
dent Davis — Description of the Military Lines of the Confederacy — Reflections on the 
Spirit and Character of the Southern People — Their Conceit about the War — The "Rac- 
coon Roughs, " and Mr. Lincoln's Hair — Why Mr. Davis was not Excusable for his Short 
Vision in the War — A Train of Disasters — Alarm and Demoralization of the People — A 
Cruel Mistake concerning General A. S. Johnston — Inauguration of Mr. Davis as Perma- 
nent President — A Gloomy Scene in the Public Square at Richmond — Piteous Prayer of 
the President — Significance of the Change from a Provisional to a Permanent Form of 
Government — Some Account of a Secret Debate at Montgomery — Why the Adoption of 



CONTENTS. O 

a Pormanont Constitution was a Mistake— Tlie New Congress at Ricliinoml — i?ij,'iiificant 
Speech of Speaker Bocock — Who was the author of tlie Conscription Law? — How Nar- 
rowly it Saved the Confederacy — A Statement of President Davis Shamelessly False — 
Two Remarkable Men in the Confederate Congress— Mr. Koote (" Gubernalor Pes,") of 
Mississippi— Mr. Boyco of South Carolina— A Remarkable Effort of these Two Men to 
Impel the Confederate Armies into the North — Tlio EITort is Defeated — Traces of a Re- 
markable Conspiracy 189 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Military Condition of the Southern Confederacy — Immense I'olifical Sip,nificai)fo of tlie Con- 
scription Law — It necessarily Changed the Character of the Government — First Appear- 
ance of Political Parties against President Davis — Some Account of Governor Jo. Brown of 
Georgia — An Infamous Underplot against the Confederacy — The Conscription Law Uncon- 
stitutional, but Justiliablo — Mr. Davis's Boast of Superior Liberty in tile South E.\ploded 
— How ho had to Swallow his Words — X Military Despotism at Richmond — Two Notable 
Sequels to the Conscription Law — A Terrible Reproof from Mr. Hunter in the Senate — 
Outrages of Winder's Police — A Description of the Fouche of the Southern Confederacy- 
Anecdote of Winder — Alarm in Richmond at McClellan's Advance — The Federal Com- 
mander up a Tree — Shameful and Cowardly Flight of the Confederate Congress — President 
Davis Secretly Resolves to Evacuate Richmond — He Changes his Resolution — A Witti- 
cism of General Lee — Excitement in Richmond on account of the Destruction of tho 
Virginia-Merrimac — A Littleness of Expedients as Characteristic of tho Confederate 
Administration — It Advertises for Scr.ap Iron and Old Brass — Anecdote of Secretary Mem- 
mingcr — Appeal of "The Old Lady" — A Notable Assembly in Richmond — "Tho Ladies' 
Gun-Boat" and an Oyster Supper 209 

CHAPTER XV. 

The City of Richmond Saved — General Lee Appointed to Command before it — IiKiilouts an<l 
Anecdotes of his previous Military Career — A Private Understanding between Generals 
Johnston and Lee — The Latter Promises to Resign — Changes of Military Policy of the 
Confederacy — Great Influence of Leo over President Davis — How the Latter was Managed 
— The " Seven Days' " Battles — Terrible Scenes in Richmond — Refusal of tho Southern 
People to Mourn their Dead — Some Reminiscences of Richmond Hospitals — Significant 
Address of President Davis — Tho First Experiment by the Confederacy of an Aggressive 
Campaign — Plans of the Campaign on both sides of the Alleghany — The period of Greatest 
Effulgence of the Confederate arms — Results of Bragg's Campaign in Kentucky — Tho Dra- 
matic Battle of Shai'psburgh — A Secret Agent of the Confederacy Prepared to Visit Washing- 
ton—Mr. Foote's Confidences with President Davis — Romance of "Tho Lost Dispatch" — 
Review of the Autumnal Campaign of 1862 — A Brilliant Record on the Valor of the 
Confederate Troops — Why was this Valor so Unavailing — Tho Outcry of Wasted Blood 
against Jefferson Davis — Silly Transports of the Confodorato President — His Fulsome Ad- 
dress to the Mississippi Legislature — A Remarkable Private Letter from General Floyd — 
Two Notable Views of the War in Contrast 228 

CHAPTER XVI. 

Some Account of the Secret .Misgivings or Private Calculationsof Mr. Davis concerning tho 
War — His Delinquency on the Subject of Retaliation — A Record of Weak Threats — The 



) CONTENTS. 

Kmauoipatinn Proclamationof President Lincoln the Supronie Act of Outrage in the War— 
K.xcited Propositions in the Coiifoderate Congress — Various Resolutions for Retaliation — 
Tlie Response of Mr. Davis practically Nothing — His Infamous Subterfuge, Suggesting 
Retaliation by the States — How Mr. Yancey Ridiculed it — A Distinct Law of Retaliation 
Passed by the Confederate Congress — Mr. Davis Refuses to Execute it — Curious E.xplaua- 
tion of Mr. Davis's Unwillingness to Retaliate on the Enemy — A Detestable Calculation for 
his Personal Safety — Singular Apology for Mr. Davis by South Carolina Ladies — Moral 
Cowardice of Mr. Davis — Some Reflections on the True Nature of Courage — Excessive 
Admiration in the South of Mere Physical Manhood — Bravado of Mr. Davis — The Emancipa- 
tion Proclamation an Encouragement to the North — Review of the Military Situation at 
the Close of 1S62— Tha South Retires to a Defensive Policy — Summary of its Military 
Plans 251 



CHAPTER XVII. 

The Battles of Murfreesboro', of Fredericksburg, and of Chancellorsville — A Trio of Import- \ 
ant Contests — A Singular and Romantic Incident of the Field of Fredericksburg — Stone- \ 
wall Jackson Makes a Proposition to Massacre the Enemy in the Night — Parallel between 
the Battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville — Death of Jackson — Mr. Davis's Tribute 
to Him — Character of Stonewall Jackson — Poverty of Genius in the War — Jackson and his 
Sophomorical Admirers — The Rag Tag Style of Eulogistic Criticism — The Religious Cha- 
racter of Jackson not Admirable — Estimate of Him as a Commander — His Gloomy Ideas of 
War — He Proposes " the Black Flag " — His Enormous and Consuming Ambition — Descrip- 
tion of His Person — In what Respects he was the Representative of the South— A Par- 
ticular Description of his Last Moments 267 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Increased Spirit of the Army of Northern Virginia — A Second Experiment of Invasion Origi- 
nated by General Lee and Opposed by Mr. Davis — Some Accounts of a Secret Correspon- 
dejice between the Commander jtud the President — A Curious and perhaps Fatal 
Misapprehension concei-ning the Campaign — Failure of Mr. Davis to Order General 
Beauregard to Virginia — The Battle of Gettysburg the Worst Error of General Lee's Mili- 
tary Life — He Makes a Disingenuous Account of it — True Theory of tlio Action — Reflec- 
tions on the Military Character of Lee — Gettysburg, a Divided Name in the Calendar of 
Battles — AVhy there were No Popular Reproaches of Lee — The Disaster of Vicksburg, a 
Very Different Story — Lee and Johnston, "Par Nobile Fralruin" of the War — The 
"President's Pets" — John 0. Pemberton, an Obscure Military Man Putin Command of 
A'icksburg — Extraordinary Protests against the Appointment — The Influence of a Woman 
Brought to Bear on Mr. Davis — An Infamous Imposture in the Command Given to John- 
ston — The President Cheats the Public Sentiment — Johnston a Mere Figure-IIead in the 
West — Proofs of a Dishonoi'able Private Correspondence of Mr. Davis in Derogation of 
Johnston's Command — The Secret Dispatch to Pemberton — Consequences of the Sur- 
render of Vicksburg — The Most Aggravated Disaster of the War %\% 

CHAPTER XIX. 

A Pause in the Military History of the Confederacy, and a View thereupon of its Internal 
Administration — Reference to the Confederate Congress — Its Secret Sessions— The " Col 



CONTENTS. 7 

lego Debating Society " in the Capitol — Some of the Notable Members of Congrees— 
Disgraceful Scenes in Secret Session — An Episode of the Bowie-Knife — Judge Dargan a 
Curiosity — A Iland-to-IIand I'ight in the Senate — Other Scandals in Congrsss — The 
Newspapers and " Coatraband Information" — Mr. Davis and his "Back-Door" Confer- 
ences — An Ill-natured Keniark about General Beauregard — Bad Results of the Secret 
Sessions of Confederate Congress — Multitude of Rumors in the South — Comments of the 
Richmond Examiner and the Charleston Mercury — Newsmongers in Richmond — Two 
Notable Characters in the Capital — " Long Tom" and the Druggist — Reflections on the 
Birth and Flight of Rumors concerning the War — IIow Mi'. Davis's Pastor was Deceived 
— An Anecdote of "Recognition" — The Demoralizing Consequences of False Rumors in 
the War — The Heart of tlie South Worn Out, Swinging from Hope to Fear — How Mr. 
Davis Uncaged Rumors — How he Dulled and Destroyed Public Spirit 308 

CHAPTER XX. 

Decay of the Patriotism of the South — No Possible Explanation of it, but the Maladministra- 
tion of Mr. Davis — Condition of the Confederate Armies — Aversion to Military Service — Mr. 
Davis's Appeal to Absentees — False Praise of the South forDaJwtion in the War — Eighteen 
Hundred Habeas Corpuscs in Richmond — How the Conscription wJt«k^ Dodged — Humors of 
the Habeas Corpus — The Public Spirit of the South, Mean and Decayed — Senator Wigfall 
Scathes the Farmers — Utter Loss of Moral Influence by President Davis — Enlargement 
of the Conscription — A Thorough Military Despotism at Richmond — Conscription and 
Impressment Twin Measures — The Scarcity of Food in the South, the Result of Misman- 
agoment — A Notable Law in the Depreciation of a Currency — An Interesting Incident of 
the First Battle of Manassas — The Errors of the Impressment Law — The War, a Choice of 
Despots, One at Washington, and One at Richmond — Fearful Attack of Senator Toombs 
on Mr. Davis's Administration — The South " Already Conquered." 355 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Scarcity of Food in the South in Connection with the Subsistence of Prisoners — Secret 
History of the Administration of the Confederate Prisons — No Provision for Feeding Pris- 
oners — A Brutal Incident at the Libby — Anecdote of a Yankee Boatswain — Commissary 
Northrop Recommends that the Prisoners be Chucked into the James River — Laws of the 
Confederacy concerning Prisoners — Exceeding Ilumatiity of Quartermaster-General Law- 
ton — Nortlirop defeats it — His Coup d'Elat on a Drove of Beeves — Northrop Responsible 
for the Maltreatment of Prisoners — Sorrowful Story of Wirz — "The Wrong Man" Hung — 
Measure of Mr. Davis's Responsibility for the Suft'erings of the Prisoners — His Extraor- 
dinary Affection for Northrop — Mr. Foote on the " Pepper Doctor " — Senator Orr has a 
Flea put in his Ear — The Subject of Discipline in the Confederate Prisons — An Argument 
to Relieve Mr. Davis from the Charge of Deliberate Cruelty — The Authentic A'ersion o. 
the Libby "Gunpowder Plot" — The Spy's Story — Richmond Sleeping on the Crust of a 
Volcano — Why the Pi'isonera were Distributed to Salisbury and Andersonville 337 

CHAPTER XXII. 

Brilliant .Military Effects of Coiisciiption and Impressment — The Richmond Government, 
the Harshest Despotism of the Age — New Hopes of the War — The South not Deficient in 
Resources— Pictures of Plenty — The Sliadow of Jefferson Davis on the Prospect — The 
Renewed Confidence of the South in the War Explained — The Positi(m of the Northern 



6 CONTENTS. 

Democratic Party in lSt>4 — A Great Advantage which the South had in the War — What 
a Kichmond Jourual Said of the Situation — Why the South Failed iu the War — False 
Theory of Deficient Resources — Moral Desertiou of the Confederate Cause — Proof of it in 
the Behavior of Southern Men since the War — The Southern Character Corrupted by the 
Misrule and Misuse of President Davis — Peculiarities of the Campaign of 1S64 — Its Fierce 
Battles — The True Situation Around Kichmond — A Ton Minutes' Battle — Lee Better Sit- 
uated at Richmond than in the Wilderness — A Maxim of Napoleon — No Alarm in Kich- 
mond — Manners in the Filthy and Accni-sed City — Mr. Davis's llousehold — His Want of 
Moral Influence in Richmond — Exclamation of a Joyous EditoV — The Confidence of the 
Country Healthier than that of the Capitol — A Southern Lady's Pictures of Country-Life — 
Prospect of Peace on the Horizon — A Picture of the Arena of the War 349 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Situation at Atlanta, Georgia, more Favorable than that at Richmond — Johnston's 
Retreat, the Masterpiece of His Military Life — Its Incidents, and its Triumph over 
Sherman — The Military Condition of the South one of Brilliant Promise — The Confederacy 
had now to Accomplish only "Negative" Results — Mr. Davis's Private Correspondents in 
the Chicago Convention — Secrets of "the Presidential Bureau of Correspondence" — A 
Remarkable Article in the New York Tribune — Compositions and Designs of the Peace 
Party in the North — Bold Declaration of the New York World — The Northern Democratic 
Party Looking to Richmond rather than to Washington — How Much Depended on the 
Prudence of Mr. Davis — How His Course should have been Shaped in such a Crisis — 
General Johnston Busy at Atlanta — An Opportunity to Operate iu Sherman's Rear — A 
Conversation of General Johnston and Senator Wigfall — An Urgent Application to Pres- 
ident Davis to Transfer Forrest's Cavalry to Sherman's Rear — Important and Critical 
Nature of this Enterprise — Senator Hill Undertakes a Mission to the President — He "Goes 
Back " upon Johnston — A Special Messenger Sent to Richmond — Anecdote of Mrs. Davis 
and a Washerwoman — Order Removing Johnston from Command, the Death- Warrant of 
the Confederacy — Secret History of this Order — The Fruit of an Intrigue in Richmond — 
The Part Played by General Bragg — Underhanded Correspondence of Mr. Davis with 
General Hood — The Latter Described by General Sherman and :t Kichmond Wit — Demora- 
lizing and Terrible Consequences of the Removal of Johnston — " The Beginning of the 
End" — Reflection on the Narrow Chances which make History — Bitter Remarks of a 
Richmond Journalist 365 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Mr. Davis's Idea of a " Fighting General " — Hood's Battles and Mistakes — Fall of Atlanta 
— A Powerful Appeal to Mr. Davis to Restore Johnston to Command — Anecdote of Mr. 
Davis and His Physician — Demoralization of all the Confederate Armies — One Hundred 
Thousand Deserters — Effect of the Disasters on Mr. Davis — Ho Attempts to Re-animate 
the People by Braggart Speeches — A Remarkable Speech at Augusta — The Error and 
Weakness of the Policy of Inflation of Public Confidence — The Temper of the South Mis- 
understood by Mr. Davis — Partial Sincerity of his Expressions of Confidence in the War — 
His Over-Sanguine Temperament — Some Instances of It — Mr. Davis Constantly Blind to 
the True Condition of Affairs — Extraordinary Self-Delusion — Extravagsmce of Hope, as 
an Infirmity of Character — A Shrewd Suspicion of one Motive the President had to Remove 
Jciiuston — His Weak Ambition to Conduct a Military Campaign — How his Vanity Be- 



CONTENTS. 9 

trayed him at Macon — Ills Visits to the Armies Ominous — The Country Surprised by 
Hood's Eccentric Movement towards Tennessee — Mr. Davis's Prophecy of Sherman's 
Retreat— Fatal Error of the Davis-Hood Campaign — It is Arranged at one End, without 
ever Looking to tlie other End — General Johnston Foresee^ Sherman's March to the Sea 
— Interesting Extract from a Private Letter of the Former — A Baptist Clergyman's 
Evangely in Kiclimond — Mr. Davis on " Vital Points" of the Confederacy — An Error in his 
Calculation — Decline of the War Spirit in the South— General Hardee at Savannah — His 
Grim Telegram to Bragg— Fall of Savannah — March of Sherman towards Richmond — 
Apparition of the Army of Tennessee in the Pine Woods of North Carolina 3S2 

CHAPTER XXV. 

Inflamed Aspect of the War on the Side of the North — The Causes which Produced it- How 
the Cruel and Inliuman Spirit of the North had Increased — The Warfare of Sherman— 
His Contract with his Soldiers for Plunder — His Army Re-created by the Davis-Hood Cam- 
paign — The Track of his March through the Carolinas — General Hampton's Reflections on 
the Burning of Columbia — Sheridan Competes with Sherman in Atrocities — Devastation 
of the Valley of Virginia — Approved by Public Sentiment in the North — The Last Period 
of the War that of Revengeful Punishment of the South — General Grant Involved in the 
Savage Warfore — A New Theory of the Enemy's Raids — Their Extraordinary Moral Effect 
on the South — Change of Warfare on the Confederate side, Correspondent to the Increased 
Atrocities of the Enemy — Mr. Davis Refuses any Plan of Open and Alanly Retaliation — 
How ho Treated his Friends, aud how his Enemies — A Curious Sort of Obstinacy — 
Reminiscences of General Lee in Pennsylvania — General Early's Feat of Incendiarism — 
Secret Expeditions to Fire Northern Cities, etc. — A Mean and Paltry Substittito for Legiti- 
mate Retaliation— Curious Method of Taking Revenge upon the North — .Mr. Davis's Re- 
sponsibility for Firing Northern Cities and Robbing Northern Banks— Revelations ofth-o 
St. Albans Raiders and the Chesapeake " Pirates" — One of Morgan's Men to Fire Chicago 
— To what Extent these Bad Enterprises were Countenanced by Mr. Davis — Secrets of th^e 
Confederate Passport OflJce — Revelations of a Member of Congress — Mr. Davis and " Con- 
fidence Men" — A Peep at his Ante-Room — Romantic Story of an Italian Adventurer in 
Richmond — The Carbonari and the Assassination of Abraham Lincoln — Mr. Davis Innocent 
of any Conspiracy against the Life of Lincoln — A Playful Allusion to the Abduction of 
the Northern President — What Mr. Davis Thought of his Rival at Washington 397 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

A New Breadth and Volume of Opposition to President Davis — Approach to an Internal 
Revolution in the Confederacy — A Coup d'Elat Threatened in Richmond — Animation of 
the Confederate Congress — Appeals to It by the Richmond Examiner and Charleston 
j)/crci()-y— Senator MMgfall on President Davis — A Revolutionary Opportunity Lost by 
Congress — Movement to Make General Lee Military Dictator — He Resists it — In what 
Sense he Accepted the Oflice of Commander-in-Chief— His Private Understanding with 
Mr. Davis — The Secret and Curious History of a Military Dictatorship in the Con- 
federacy — A Remarkable Correspondence of General Lee with the President — Some Pecu- 
liarities of the Char.acter of Lee — His Quiet and Negative Disposition — General Lee Exces- 
sively and Servilely Admired in the South— Defects in his Character— A Great JIan never- 
theless — Why he Refused to be Used by the Opposition against Mr. Davis — How he 



10 CONTENTS. 

Seemed the Favor of the President — Their Personal Relations — Mr. Davis Affects not to 
be Sensible of the Revolutionary Design against his Administration — A Remarkable and 
Dishonorable Evasion by the President — llis Correspondence with the Legislature of 
Virginia — Ilis Secret Resentment of the Revolutionary Demands Made upon Ilim — 
Anecdote of Mrs. Davis — A Defiant Speech in the Executive Mansion — Scandalous Quarrel 
between the President and Congress — A Lame Conclusion of a Revolution 41G 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

Resignation of Mr. Seddon from President Davis's Cabinet — Ugly Developments in the 
War Department — IIow Mr. Seddon's Resignation was Forced by a Delegation of Con- 
gress — Mr. Davis's Angry Defiunce — Daring Response of Congress — Condition of the Con- 
federate Treasury — Empirical Remedies in Congress — A Frightful Tax Law — The Infirm 
Temper of Congress — Heroic Appeals of the Press — The South yet far from Material 
Exliaustion — Remarkable Statement of General Lee respecting the Resources of the Con- 
federacy — Application of it to Theory of the Failure of the War — A Proposition to Arm 
the Slaves a Desperate Remedy — Reluctant Rccjjmmendation of it by Mr. Davis — Sum- 
mary of Arguments for and against it — Public Opinion Decided by a Letter from General 
Lee^A Gross Fallacy Contained in this Measure — Remarkable Concession of the Con- 
federate Government to the Anti-Slavery Party of the North — Jefferson Davis, as an 
Abolitionist — Reflections on the Little Regret Shown by the South for the Loss of 
Slavery — The Law of Negro Enlistments as Finally Passed — A Farcical Conclusion — A 
Nogro Parade in Capitol Square — Congress Expiring in a Recrimination witli President 
Davis 439 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

An Unexpected Test of the Spirit of the South — The Fortress Monroe Peace Commission — 
Mr. Blair's Visit to Richmond — Review of Peace Movements in the Confederacy — Critical 
Analysis of the Peace Party in the South — Three Elements or Classes in it — Mr. Davis 
Ultimately Joins the Third Class of Peace Men — Governor Vance's Exposition of this 
Class — Correspondence between liim and President Davis — The Idea in this Correspond- 
ence Renewed a Year tliereaftcr — The Fortress Monroe Commission the Result — Secret 
Design of Mr. Davis to Kill off the Peace Movement — How this Design was Served by 
the Oflicial Report of the Commissioners — A Day of Speech-Making in Richmond — 
Speeches of Mr. Hunter and Mr. Benjamin — Unexpected Appeai-anco of Mr. Davis in Metro- 
politan Hall — Tlie Most Eloquent Speech of his Life — It was never Reported — Summary 
of it — A Brief Hxcitoment in the South Followed by a Failure of Resolution — The Char- 
acter of the Southp.rn People Impaired-^Fatal Defect of Mr. Davis as a Ruler in his Ignor- 
ance of the People — His Power to Inspire the People Gone — A Curious Reason for the 
Failure to Re-animate the South after the Fortress Monroe Commission — Doubts Thrown 
on the Truth of the Report of the Commissioners — Singular and Remarkable Delusion 
of the South as to the Consequences of Submission — Extent of tlie False Trust in the 
Snomy's Generosity — "Subjugation" Treated as a Scare-Crow — Hopes of Saving Some- 
thing from the Abolition of Slavery — A Singular Conversation of President Lincoln — 
An Amiable Episode of the Fortress Monroe Comniissitm — Impressive Warnings in Rich- 
mond Against a "Deceptive Reconstruction" — To what Degree the South was Conquered 
by Anticipations of the Generosity of the North — A Justification of the War on Retrospect 
— Examples of the Credulity of the South — IIow it has Lingered Since the War 458 



CONTENTS. 11 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

A Cruel Rumor in Richmond — Description of General Lee's Lines— Tho Fatal Battle of the 
M of April — Siibbatli Scenes in Riohinund — A Telegnun Delivered in St. Paul's Church — 
No Authentic Announcement conccriiiiif; tlie Evacuation of Richmond — A Scone on a. 
Hotel Balcony— Sudden and Wild Excitement in tho City — Scenes of a Panic — Whore is 
the President? — Mr. Davis Concealed — Ilis Mean and Obscure Exit from tho City — 
General Breckiuridfro at the War Deiiartment — A Curious Scene in the Tliird Story of the 
Capitol — Disgraceful Conduct of tho Citizens of Richmond — A Mission of Mayor Mayo — 
How Richmond was I'ired — Responsibility of President Davis for tho Conllagration — Con- 
gregation of Horrors — Picturesque Entree of tho Federal Army — The Burnt District — A 
Thronged Theatre Unnaturally Illuminated — Terrible Quiet of the Night after tho Fire — 
The War Virtually Ended — President Davis Insensible of tho Importance of the Loss of 
Richmond — His Confidence Grotesque — An Issue Between Him and a Richmond Editor — 
The Picture of a Southern Confederacy Reduced to Jefferson Davis in Flight 485 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Some Furtlicr Reflections on tho Cliaracter of President Davis — A Historical Comparison — 
Secret History of his Flight from Richmond — A Vessel Awaiting Him on the Coast of 
Florida — Concealment of Important Records of tho Confederacy — Trepidation of Mr. Davis's 
Departure from Richmond — What Became of tho Gold in tho Treasury — Tlio President's 
Proclamation at Danville — A Singular Conversation — Fatuity and Blindness of Mr. Davis 
— Continuation of his Flight to Greensboro', North Carolina — Infammis and Insulting 
Conduct of the People there — Tho President Housed, for nearly a Week, in a Box Car — A 
Lady to tho Rescue — Memorable Interview of President Davis and Generals Johnston 
and Beauregard — A Bitter Speech from Johnston — The President Dictates an Important 
Letter — Meditations of his .Tourney through North Carolina — lie Conceives a Now Prospect 
— " Hoping Against Hope" — A Dramatic and Painful Scene at Abbeville, South Carolina — 
Tho Last Council of tho Southern Confeder.acy — "All is Lost" — Disbandmeut of tho Con- 
federate Troops at Abbeville — Mr. Davis's Misconduct on Receiving the News of the 
Assassination of Abraham Lincoln — Tho Presidential Party at Washington, Georgia — Mr. 
Davis Disguised as an Emigrant — His Capture — Wicked and Absurd Story of his being 
Disguised in a Woman's Dress — A Boody Defiance — ^Irs. Davis in the Scene — Tho Presi- 
dent's Parley with His Captors — A Sorrowful Cavalcade to Macon, Georgia 501 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

Mistake of the Federal Government in tlio Imprisonment of Mr. Davis — An Intrigue of 
Secretary Stanton — How Mr. Davis Repaired his Reputation in Prison — Celebration of his 
Release in Richmond — A Transport of Affection for him in the South — Ingenious Explana- 
tion of tho Sensitiveness of the Southern People concerning Criticisms of Mr. Davis — This 
Disposition Unreasonable, and really Injurious to tho Whole South — Mr. Davis in Canada / 

— A Conunercial Errand to England — Tho Ex-President of tho Southern Confederacy as a / 

Commission-Merchant — The Proposition of an Infamous and Hideous Traffic in Historical / 

Notoriety — Reflections on the Employments of Confederate Leaders since the War — Au 
Important Distinction — Honorable Examjde of General Leo — Tho Prosecution of Mr. Davis ' 
Dismissed — An Order oi Nolle J'rnscqui — Tho Great Significance of this Event — Imperfect ' 
Connnentarios of the Dull and Barren Press of tho South — Tho Discharge of Mr. Davis, the 
Greatest Triumph tho Sonth could have Obtained after the War — Tho Event Important 
In Three Aspects — Exit of Mr. Davis from the Political Stage 625 



OTRODUCTIOIi 



A Theory of the Greatness of Men — Two interesting Reflections— A New 
Rule in the Composition of Biograpliy — Application of it to Jefferson 
Davis. 

The greatness of men — the titles they hold to the 
memory of mankind — is generally acliieved in a com- 
paratively short period of life. It would be a curious 
and not invaluable speculation to estimate the average 
period in which the supreme fame of men, notable 
in the world's memory, is accomplished. Such fame 
usually extends over but a small segment of life, al- 
though the exceptions to the rule are not a few. We 
might indeed risk the statement that the average of 
the historical mission scarcely exceeds a decade. The 
career in which great names are accomplished generally 
occurs on the plane of middle life, and is bounded, on 
the one hand, by the obscurity of earlier years and, on 
the other, by the natural retirement of old age. This 
law of greatness is essentially a very general one, 
largely qualified by exceptions; but it certainly exists, 
and one caimot have read history attentively, if he has 
not observed in what comparatively brief and con- 
tracted sj^aces of human life, that fame which entitles 

13 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

ineii to the moinory of the world, has been achieved. 
Two valuable and interesting reflections occur on this 
subject. 

There are many ambitious men wdio mourn tlie 
shortness of life, and as they advance in years are 
disposed to despair of time in which to accomplish 
their hopes of fame. It is a common despondency of 
eager and sensitive aspirants, reckoning their years 
against their achievements. But it is a despondency 
that may be cured and re-animated by oljserving 
within what boundaries of years the most luunerous 
examples of historical greatness have occurred, and on 
what short leases of time great names have been won. 
It is a sovereign peculiarity of genius to contain always 
in itself illimitable possibilities of greatness ; there is no 
telling when it may assert itself and blaze forth to the 
admiration of mankind, and its possibility and confi- 
dence of distinction it, alike, releases only with life. 
But even men of lower faculties than genius need not 
despair ol' the narrow chance of historical fame, because 
of the accumulation of obscure years, as long as they 
have a margin on tlie natural feebleness and seclusion 
of old age. The greatest memories in history are 
spanned but by a few years ; and the brave aspirant for 
fame, not actually stricken by age, has no reason to 
mourn that he has not time wherein to achieve his 
passion for glory. 

But we have another reflection on this subject be- 
sides its consolation to ambition — a particular reflection, 



INTRODUCTION". 15 

and one applicable to the work before us. It concerns 
a new rule in the composition of Biography. What is 
memorable in men's lives in a historical sense, and 
most valuable to know, generally, as Ave have already 
maintained, takes place within a limited number of 
years ; and within this compass are to be found, we are 
persuaded, the proper limits of Biography. The reader 
wants to know principally the historical part which the 
man performed; and what of his life extends on either 
side of this space is really so marginal and subordinate 
that the philosophical biographer may dwell but lightly 
on it. If this rule diminishes the field of a particular 
class of literature, it is really to improve it, to cultivate 
its true value under a healthy system of contraction, 
and to concentrate and raise its interest. We protest 
against that tedious and jejune Biography, which re- 
lates the lives of men in the style of annals, each year 
having its event; which has no idea of the distribution 
of incidents ; and which follows the suljject with 
e(|iial detail from the cradle to the grave. Something 
of course must be allowed for tracing the growth of 
character and bringing up the man to the period in 
which he is distinguished; the career, indeed, must be 
exhibited as a whole and in its proper relations ; we 
only insist that in the life of the greatest men, there is 
a particular and often contracted period wherein its 
true interest resides, and that all outside of this croAvded 
space may be treated but slightly and subordinately as 
scarcely different from the commonplaces of any average 



16 INTRODUCTION. 

Imiiian life. It is within the experience of almost e very- 
reader of Biography how often he has been offended 
and wearied by minuteness of details, which have 
nothing to do w^ith the real significance of the hero ; 
by accounts of his childhood and early life no Avay dis- 
tinguished from the ordinary experience of human 
creatures ; by a puerile faithfulness to every event from 
the birth to the death ; and by dreary relations of inci-^ 
lents neither memorable, nor suggestive, and not even 
ncommon. It is against this excess of Biography we 
irotest. 

We have proposed a rule to ourselves deduced from 
eneral observations ; and happily it is singularly and 
ven exactly appropriate to our subject. The interest 
f the life of Jefferson Davis lies within a remarkably 
i.mited space of time. It is bounded by well-defined 
jLiUes, of more than ordinary clearness and severity, and 
beyond which it is but little important or memorable 
in the sense of history. His fame and the true signifi 
cance of his life are chiefly compassed by the four years 
of the late war. In this dense historical period he 
moved as a commanding figure ; but he had grown 
suddenly to the stature of greatness, and alread}^ he has 
sunk into obscure occupations and immeasurable neglect. 
Adhering to the rule we have already adopted, we 
may rapidly go over his life up to the threshold of the 
war, commencing there the elaborate and justly pro- 
portioned narrative of his historical career. 



J 



CHAPTER I. 

Life of Mr. DaviB Anterior to the War — lliH Karly Military Career — Abinipt RcHignation of It — 
Eiglit Years of Ketirement — An Karly Insight into Mr. Davib' Character — I'asBion for Self- 
Culture — IILh Student-Life — An Imperfect Iritellectual Character as the Result of Solitude — 
Mr. Davis's First Ilemarkablo Adventure in Public Life — The "Pons Asinorum" — Curious 
Explanation of a Slander — Mr. Davis and the Missitisippi "Repudiation" — Ilia Career in the 
Mexican War — The " V " Movement at Buena Vista — Return of Mr. Davis to Congress — His 
Senatorial Career. 

Jeffeeson Davis was born on the 3d day of June, 1808, 
in that portion of Kentucky wliicli is now Todd county. 
His family removed to tliu then territory of Mississippi, 
while he was a child of tender years. He commenced his 
education at the Transylvania University, Kentucky, but 
left it for the West Point Academy, where he graduated in 
1828. 

He followed the fortunes of a soldier until 1885. He was 
a cadet from 1824 to 1828 ; Second Lieutenant of Infantry 
from 1828 to 1833 ; First Lieutenant of Dragoons from 1833 
to 1835, serving in various campaigns against the Indians; 
was Adjutant of Dragoons, and at different times served in 
the Quartermaster's Department. His military life gave 
considerable promise of distinction ; it liad already aflbrded 
ample fields to gratify a passion for adventure; there was 
no likelihood that the command of the young officer of dra- 
goons would • rust on the Western frontier, where it had 
already chastised the Camanches and Pawnees, and where it 
was often detailed on duties of an important and dangerous 
character; but to the surprise of his companions in arms, 
2 17 



18 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Lieutenant Davis abruptly quitted the service, resigned bis 
commission, and betook himself to the widely removed oc- 
cupation of a cotton-planter in Mississippi. A short while 
afterwards, it was known that he had married the daughter 
of Colonel Zachary Taylor after a romantic elopement, and 
that he had founded a quiet home in the neighborhood of 
Yicksburg, Avhere for a long time he was withdrawn from 
the notice of his former friends and associates. 

For eight years after his resignation from the army, Mr. 
Davis remained in the close retirement of private life, occu- 
pying himself obscurely with domestic and personal cares. 
He was a successful planter, living in comfort, but appa- 
rently averse to the social entertainments of that class, a man 
known only to his immediate neighbors, recluse, inoffensive 
and unpopular. Such a period of retirement, taking place 
within that period of matured manhood, when life is most 
valuable, and when the character may be said to assert itself, 
and occupying years of which the ambitious nature is gener- 
ally jealous and eager to appropriate to particular objects, is 
remarkable enough, in view of the former career of Mr. 
Davis, and especially in view of its elevated and impassioned 
sequel. He was not a man who would have been generally 
estimated as fond of retirement. He had chosen the profes- 
sion of arms from ambition, and had confessed to an early 
passion for public distinction. He had resigned that profes- 
sion without dishonor and without bitterness. There are no 
traces of any private disappointment in his life Avhich could 
have forced him into a seclusion in which for so many years 
he was apparently so well satisfied. It was not the retire- 
ment of a misanthrope, or of one whom fortune had offended, 
or of yet one whom some secret necessity or pain had driven 
into solitude. He went willingly and easily into retirement; 



SECRET l]I.STOKY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 19 

and for eight years, the future President of the Southern 
Confederacy, whose name a great war was to carry to the 
ends of the earth, lived quietly on a plantation, and gave the 
best part of his manhood to the most peaceful and most 
obscure pursuits of life. 

But this curious interval in the life of Mr. Davis really 
afifords an insight into his character which has not generally 
been observed. Stormy and ambitious as was his subsequent 
career, he frequently confessed to a happiness in this period 
of retirement which could only have proceeded from one of 
those rare and refined natures, which, however occupied in 
the world, or however conspicuousl}'- placed by circum- 
stances, yet finds a supreme pleasure and luxurj^ in self-culture^ 
in the improvement of the mind, not for special effects, but 
for the delightful consciousness of its progress in power and 
knowledge. This disposition of Mr. Davis for intellectual 
pleasures is remarkable throughout his life, and even in the 
busiest of his public pursuits he is known to have indulged 
the solitary habits of self-improvement in reading, meditation 
and private exercises of the mind. He was a student for life, 
and so from the necessity of his nature. He had the passion 
for self-culture which is observed in such men — a passion 
which even the most ambitious pursuits sometimes do not 
dull, and the most apparently foreign occupations cannot 
entirely displace. 

His retirement to which we have referred was rather that 
of the scholar than of the planter. He impi'oved it by 
studies the most various; he adorned his solitude with books; 
he undertook a course of reading and of literary cultivation 
of which he never wearied, and evidences of which strangely 
appeared in his subsequent memorable career. It was in 
these years of retirement that he mostly acquired that fund 



20 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

of "general learning," that extensive range of culture, "vvhicli 
was remarked of him by those who knew him intimately, 
when the public knew him only as President of the Southern 
Confederacy ; which was curiously displayed within the 
walls of the prison where he was afterwards consigned ; 
which supported him in that weariness and solitude; which 
made books his only pleasures there ; and of which the most 
interesting and affecting evidences have been given to the 
world in the conversations of the "prison-life" of the fallen 
and fettered chief, whose " learning," in the language of the 
physician who attended him in pain, in sorrow, in separation 
from the world, in partial blindness, and in apparently the 
last infirmities of nature, was yet " almost marvellous." 

Within eight years of close student-life Mr. Davis made 
himself an accomplished scholar, but scarcely more. Here 
he acquired the 'extraordinary literary culture which made 
him in some respects so admirable ; but here too he may 
have derived much of that imperfect intellectual character, 
which marks those who have but little practical intercourse 
with men, and who have not mixed knowledge of the world 
with the information of the scholar. It is this fine mixture 
which we recognize especially in the highest types of states- 
manship, and which Ave observe in those happy men who 
command the successes of the multitude along with the 
appreciation of the few and intelligent. Whatever may be 
the natural vigor of the mind, it may be impaired by exces- 
sive and solitary exercises; a weak and speculative intellec- 
tual character is often the result of studies which abstract us 
from the world ; and in the practical conduct of human affairs, 
the danger of over-refinement is not less than that of a blunt 
and barren ignorance. Altogether Mr. Davis's period of 
studious and elegant retirement was not a fortunate prepara- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 21 

tion for the distinguished and momentous career on which 
he was to enter. 

In 1843, Mr. Davis emerged suddenly from his seclusion, 
and with brilliant rapidity and a becoming ease won the 
honors of public life. lie entered the arena of politics in 
the midst of a great excitement and at a time auspicious for 
an adventurous candidate for distinction. The State of 
Mississippi was then unusually agitated by a campaign for 
Governor, and parties were also being organized for the 
great Presidential contest of the next year. Mr. Davis was 
placed as a Presidential elector on the Polk and Dallas ticket; 
and so rapid had been his progress as a popular speaker and 
so conspicuous his part in the critical Democratic success of 
1844 that the next year ho was sent to Congress, and in 
December. 1845, took his seat in the House of Eepresentatives. 

Generally an election to Congress may be taken as the 
pons asinorura in the career of the American politician. It 
is usually prefaced by easier problems of local advancement, 
and the ordinary experience of the aspirant for public hon- 
ors is that of successive steps of of&ce leading up to this con- 
siderable elevation. The common routine or order of the 
political career is the local magistracy, the corporation office, 
the State Legislature— then Congress. Mr. Davis, however, 
appears to have mounted to the latter place rapidly, and to 
have disdained the pains of gradual advancement. That he 
may have been aided in this quick ascent by accidental cir- 
cumstances is probably true as we have already suggested , 
but it is none the less certain that he must have made a re- 
markable display of ripe and vigorous parts to have won 
such a success so quickly, on his emerging from a profound 
retirement, and to have made his first appearance in public 
life as a member of Congress. 



22 LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS, WITH A 

His previous connection ^\■itb tlio local politics of Missis- 
sippi coiild only have been of the slightest description. Al- 
most from the commencement of his career, he was on the 
. theatre of national politics. This observation is interesting 
/ in view of the accusation which has become lamiliar in 
JSTorthern newspapers, that Mr. Davis was an advocate of that 
odious measure, the repudiation of part of the State debt oi' 
Mississippi, represented by the bonds of one of her banks. 
I The libel is contemptibly ignorant in point of narrative ; the 
■ main fact being that at the time the bonds referred to were 
refused payment, Mr. Davis was in the retirement we have de- 
scribed, having no connection whatever with politics, and the 
further fact having lately appeared that at a subsequent period 
of his life he endeavored to raise voluntary subscriptions to 
pay off these bonds, and thus redeem the honor of Missis- 
sippi. 

How such a slander could have been persistently and 
successfull}^ maintained in the lace of these facts — even to the 
extent that many thousand persons in the North and Europe 
to this day firmly believe and habitually assert that JelYerson 
Davis achieved his tirst bad distinction in life as a disciple 
of repudiation in Mississippi — is remarkable and even curi- 
ous. It is so much so that the author may afford in this 
place the explanation of it which has been given him. It 
appears that in the late war there was an especial eilbrt of 
the Northern Government to disparage the credit of the 
Southern Confederacy in Europe; to break down its financial 
schemes there, and, in proportion, to advance their own. To 
this mission was appointed Robert J. Walker, a Mississippian, 
a personal enemy ol' }\[v. Davis, a man of the doubll'ul trade 
of a private "financier/' and known to be the tool of any 
pecuniary enterprise: and the first flagitious enterprise of 



SECRET HISTOUV^ OF THE CONFEDERACY. 23 

this individual was to publish in all the money markets of 
Europe a pamphlet representing the then President of the 
Southern Confederacy as one of the agents of repudiation in 
Mississippi. What he asserted he knew to be false; but he 
attached to it an invention of great plausibility. When Mr. 
Davis was in the Senate of the United States, his State was 
aspersed for repudiation ; and he answered, offering what of 
defence or of apology he could for an act to which he had 
been originally oppose^l, but the wrong of which he was not 
willing to admit under the force of censure levelled at his 
State, or to the extent it implied in a debate of recrimination. 
In this he did nothing more than his duty as a representative 
—to offer all he could of justification of an act of his State, 
even one from which he had originally dissented, but whi(ih 
he was not therefore, willing, to submit to the unmitigated 
censure of enemies and to the excessive and unmeasured re- 
proaches of the revilers of the South. In such a defence of 
Mississippi, he performed the just and generous duty of a 
representative, and made an honorable speech to urge what 
he could of excuse for a measure which he had never advo- 
cated, which he never pretended to justify and which he was 
yet impatient to see turned to excessive and distorted cen- 
sure by the enemies of his State. It was this speech from 
which Mr. Walker obtained the color of repudiation, which 
he published or rather garbled in the capitals of Europe, and 
through which Mr. Davis is to this day unjustly known as a 
party "to an infamous measure of his State. It is easy to pile 
occasions upon a fallen man; malice has done its worst upon 
the unsuccessful chicY of the Southern Confederacy; but 
surely he has enough of reproach to bear without the added n/ 
burden of those false recriminations which so readily grow 
in the season of misfortune. Though his life should be 



24 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

greatly accused by the just biograplier, tlie same should be 
none the less ready to defend it against false accusations as to 
expose it to truthful censure. On this principle of distribu 
tion, thus early avowed and illustrated, the author bases his 
work and trusts its strength and merit. 

Mr. Davis was sitting in the House of Representatives when 
the war with Mexico was proclaimed. It opened a new road 
to his ambition, and one which led back to his first passion 
for arms. He resigned his seat in Congress, to accept the 
command of the Mississippi Rifles — a regiment of which he 
was unanimously elected colonel — overtook his men at New 
Orleans, en route for the theatre of the war, and by midsummer 
of 1846 reinforced General Taylor on the Rio Grande. We 
have neither the space nor design to admit here the details of 
his military career in Mexico. He played an important part 
at Monterey, where he charged, without baj'onets, on Fort 
Leneria ; he led liis command through the streets to within a 
square of the Grand Plaza, suffering a storm of musketry and 
grape; and on the subsequent field of Buena Vista, he per- 
formed one of the most dramatic incidents of the war, receiving 
on a suddenly conceived formation of his lines a charge of 
cavahy, and Avith a plunging fire from right and left repelling 
it, the last desperate effort of the Mexicans to break the 
American lines at the close of the day. 

Of this affair a writer, who witnessed the field, has afforded 
the following vivid description: — "A brigade of lancers, one 
thousand strong, were seen approaching at a gallop, in beauti- 
ful array, with sounding bugles and fluttering pennons. It 
was an appalling spectacle, but not a man flinched from his 
position. The time between our devoted band," (the Missis- 
sippi Rifles) " and eternity seemed brief indeed. But con- 
scious that the eye of the army was upon them, that the honor 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 25 

of Mississippi was at stake, and knowing tliat, if tliej gave 
way, or were ridden down, our unprotected batteries in the 
rear, upon which the fortunes of the day depended, would be 
captured, each man resolved to die in his place sooner than 
retreat. Not the Spartan martyrs at Therraoply^ — not the 
sacred battalion of Epaminondas — not the Tenth Legion of 
Julius Caesar — not the Old Guard of Napoleon — ever evinced' 
more fortitude than these young volunteers in a crisis when 
death seemed inevitable. They stood like statues, as frigid 
and motionless as the marble itself. Impressed with this ex- 
traordinary firmness, when they had anticipated panic and 
flight, the lancers advanced more deliberately, as though they 
saw, for the first time, the dark shadow of the fate that was 
impending over them. Colonel Davis had thrown his men 
into the form of a re-entering angle, (familiarly known as his 
famous Y movement,) both flanks resting on ravines, the 
lancers coming down on the intervening ridge. This exposed 
them to a covering fire ; and the moment they came within 
rifle range each man singled out his object, and the whole 
head of the column fell. A more deadly fire never was de- 
livered, and the brilliant array recoiled and retreated, para- 
lyzed and dismayed." 

On his return from the Mexican war, Mr. Davis quickly 
reentered political life, this time with an ascent to the Senate 
of the United States. He was elected in 1847 to fill a 
vacancy ; but a few months before the expiration of his sena- 
torial term, he returned to the field of local politics in Missis- 
sippi, and was an unsuccessful candidate for Governor in the 
campaign of 1850. From that contest he passed into the 
Cabinet of President Pierce, and for four years discharged 
with uninterrupted satisfaction to the army and to the country 
the duties of Secretary of War. In 1857, he returned to the 



26 LIFE OF JEEFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Senate, and his term would have continued there until the 
8d of March, 1863, had not the war translated him to that 
career wherein we shall find the dominant interest of his life 

It is not our purpose to examine here the political record 
of Mr. Davis; it will appear in another and special connec- 
tion, and as bearing on the one great question of separation 
and war. We do not purpose to burden the reader with the 
ordinary legislative history of his Congressional terms ; we 
simply sum here, and very briefly, the external events of his 
life, before the war, designing hereafter to review, as from its 
threshold, whatever is significant in them on the question of 
Disunion. 

Yet we must say something generall}^ of his Senatorial 
career. It was the most important part of his public life pre- 
ceding the war. For several years he sat in this body, in the 
company of such men as Clay, Webster, Cass, Douglas, 
Dickinson, and King ; and the distinction he obtained for 
such a time and in such an association cannot be well omitted 
from his life — especially as we think it a rightful portion of 
his fame that should survive the war, and be justly distributed 
to his posterity. The chief interest of his life resides, as we 
have already suggested, within the limits of the war ; and yet 
beyond this there is something of achievement and of 
character that the public should remember. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 27 



CHAPTER 11. 

Mr. Davis in the Senate of tho United States — Distinction as an Orator— Definition of the term 
"Eloquence" — Mr. Davis in the World of Letters — Brilliant Remnant of liis Keputatiou — 
His Stylo as a Speaker — His Figure and Manners in the Senate — The art of " Self-coutineuce" 
in Oratory — Reference to Stephen A. Douglas — His "Specialty" — Anecdotes of his Life — How 
Jefferson Davis Compared with the "Little Giant "-^The Former Sconis "Quarter" — The 
Kansas Controversy — Mr. Davis's Reply to Douglas— A Burst of Temper — A Noblo Speech — 
The Senatorial Career of Mr. Davis, tho Most Honorable Part of his Public Life. 

Mr. Davis's career in the' Senate of the United States was 
not connected with the origination of any great public mea- 
sure, and had but little of severely historical distinction. 
He was a quiet member, illustrating in that august assembly 
a fine eloquence, a studied and refined manner, and a habit 
rather scholarly than popular. He never had any force as a 
partisan ; he had no reputation as a statesman ; he had none 
of the original resources of a great genius, a creator; but 
he had a characteristically senatorial manner, a mind vari- 
ously and richly stored from cultivated leisure, and an elo- 
quence which was without parallel in his times, and, in 
fact, ascends to comparison with the best models in history 
of public and deliberative discourse. 

It is curious how words, formed at first to express single 
and distinct things, are carried to secondary significations ; 
how they are extended by popular use to take in adjacent or 
similar ideas; how special or even technical terms arc made 
at last to comprehend, in the common parlance, the whole 
generic idea. This peculiarity of the use or abuse of lan- 
guage is well illustrated in the word '•'■ Eloquence P As a 



28 LIFE OF JEFFEESON DAYIS, WITH A 

term of art, eloquence Las a very distinct and severe mean- 
ing; it denotes a qnalit}^ tbat is tlie rarest of human gifts, 
and wliicb, however difficult of definition, is as unmis- 
takable in its effects as the mesmerism that by subtile 
influences enchains its subject, possesses all his sympathies, 
and makes him for the time obey the will and reflect the 
very sense of the other. It is, in fact, a moral mesmerism : 
the conversion of an audience into the alter ego of the indi- 
vidual, the irresistible command of a sympathy that identi- 
fies itself Avith the speaker, and binds up the hearts of men 
in one common feeling and ali'ection. It is no more possible 
to mistake this mysterious power of eloquence than the 
Promethean fire. It is properly sui generis^ distinguished 
from all other faculties of man, mysterious and defying 
analysis, and so seldom possessed, that Eloquence, taking 
it as a term of art, may be said to be the very rarest of that 
rare gift called genius, and those who may be called orators, 
in the highest sense of the word, may be counted by the 
tens in the sum of all ages of the world, and in the entire 
extent of human histor3^ 

But the term has been expanded bj^ general use, until at 
last those even who pretend to a critical and precise use of 
language, are accustomed to denote as Eloquence almost 
any kind of powerful or effective speaking. Thus, this 
word is now generally used to characterize any discourse 
that answers its ends, whether it bo the conviction of the 
understanding or the persuasion of the will. The vivacity 
of the intellect is confounded with the play of the passions; 
the ardor of conviction is mistaken for the heats of fancy 
and imagination ; the lively harangue is termed the effort 
of Eloquence ; and the mere intellectual animation of the 
speaker passes for the rage of the orator. It is by these 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 29 

natural processes that the term Eloquence has obtained a 
ver}^ extensive meaning. In the literature of our country, 
we find it freely used to denote general excellence in speak- 
ing, and appropriated as a title to fame by men of the most 
various gifts and accomplishments. It is equally applied to 
the massive, judicial discourse of Webster, the lively dia- 
lectics of Calhoun, the scholarly elegance of Eandolph, the 
well-dressed, agreeable commonplaces of the over-rated Clay, 
the skilled debate of Douglas, the fiery appeal and fierce 
exclamations of the passionate and unequal Yancey. All 
these are orators in the popular sense of the term ; and in 
this sense we shall not dispute their titles to fame, and their 
claims on the admiration of their countrymen. 

Indeed, it is in this general and popular sense that we 
accept the term Eloquence, and apply it to the subject of 
this chapter. It would be too severe an affectation to limit 
now a word that has grown into so large and general a 
signification ; and, therefore, taking it to mean power and 
excellence in speech, we shall proceed to designate the merit 
as an orator of one whose character has been but seldom or 
slightly discussed in this view. 

The events of the past few years have not uniy made the 
name of Jefferson Davis familiar to the companies of states- 
men and politicians ; it has been introduced to the world of 
letters, and discussed there with an interest scarcely second 
to that it has inspired in the political circle, llis exhi- 
bitions of scholarship, the fine literary effects of his style, 
his sonorous State papers, his skilled narration of the origin 
and conduct of the war, his powerful and sometimes splendid 
vindication Avith the pen of the cause of the Southern Con- 
federacy have made him, no matter whatever else of repu- 
tation he may have lost or diminished in the struggle, one 



30 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, "WITH A 

of the first literary names in America. It has been said 
that his verj numerous and full state papers would make a 
very ingenious history of the war. They might be col- 
lected in another interest, as a model of style, containing, 
as they do, some of the best and most vigorous English 
extant in this corrupt literary period of the country, in 
which the language of our ancestors suffers so much from 
the zeal of Yankee reformers. But it is as an orator that 
we propose to regard Mr. Davis in this chapter, — a view in 
which it is remarkable he has been scarcely considered by 
his countrymen, although discussed in so many respects, 
and surrounded and assailed by almost every weapon of 
criticism. Here his displays during the war were less fre- 
quent than with the pen ; they were few and but very 
imperfectly reported ; they were almost lost to fame in the 
dingy records of the Confederate newspapers ; but what of 
well-preserved record he has left, as an orator, in the Senate 
of the United States is sufficient, we think, to entitle him to 
a large measure of admiration, to repair, to some extent, 
other parts of his reputation, and to leave liim Avith an 
honorable and not lightly adorned name to survive the 
misfortunes of his purely political career. 

The Senate of the United States is undoubtedly the highest 
school of eloquence in America. It was in this school, 
where had reigned the triumvirate of Clay, Webster, and 
Calhoun, where had been the theatre of the greatest and 
most dignified contests in American politics, where resided 
the memories of the country's greatest men, that Mr. Davis 
formed his style. It was a fit school. Of all the living 
orators of America, 'My. Davis was best suitea to address a 
small and cultivated assembly. No one abhorred more 
than he did that vulgar and detestable style of eloquence, 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACV. 31 

which the world is disposed to designate as peculiarly Amer- 
ican^ and of which exaggeration is the prevailing character- 
istic. His sober and classical speech had nothhig in com- 
mon with that h\)urth-of-July oratory which captivates the 
masses; it rejected all extravagances; it had none of that 
rhetorical excess Avhich has disfigured so many American 
statesmen. To those accustomed to the inflated stylo of the 
hustings and the extravagances of iVmerican orator}-, it was 
indeed refreshing to listen to the polished yet forcible lan- 
guage of the Senator from Mississippi, to mark his apt 
political words, and to hear the hautboy tones of his rich 
and manly eloquence. 

The qualities of JMr. Davis as an orator were of rare and 
cultivated type. His person realized all that the popular 
imagination pictured for an orator. His thin, spare figure, 
his almost sorrowful cast of countenance, composed, how- 
ever, in an invariable expression of dignity, gave the idea 
of a bod}"- worn by the action of the mind, an intellect sup- 
porting in its prison of flesh the pains of constitutional 
disease, and triumphing over physical confinement and af- 
fliction. His cheek-bones were hollow ; the vicinity of his 
mouth was deeply furrowed with intersecting lines ; and the 
intensity of expression was rendered acute b}- angular facial 
outline. " In face and form," said one who frequently saw 
him in the Senate, '* he represents the Norman type with 
singular fidelity, if my conception of tha>. type be correct." 
Observing him in a casual group of three of the then most 
distinguished public men of the South, sitting in abstracted 
conversation in the Chamber of the Senate, the same writer 
thus continues his description : " Davis sat erect and com- 
posed ; Hunter, listening, rested his head on his hand ; 
and Toombs, inclining forward, was speaking vehemently. 



82 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Their respective attitudes were no bad illustration of their 
individuality. Davis impressed the spectator, who observed 
the easy but authoritative bearing witli which he put aside 
or assented to Toombs's suggestions, with the notion of some 
slight superiority, some hardly acknowledged leadership ; 
and Hunter's attentiveness and impassibility were character- 
istic of his nature, for his profundity of intellect wears the 
guise of stolidity, and his continuous industry that of in- 
ertia ; while Toombs's quick utterance and restless head 
bespoke his nervous temperament and activity of mind." 

Mr. Davis had a personal figure which was commanding 
in every attitude. His carriage was erect — there was a 
soldierly atYectation, of which, indeed, the hero of Buena 
Vista gave evidence through his life, having the singular 
conceit that his genius was military, and fitter for arms 
than for the council. He had a precise manner, and an 
austerity that was at first forbidding ; but he had naturally 
a fondness for society, and often displayed tenderness to 
those with whom he was intimate. When he spoke, he was 
always self-possessed. His style as a speaker was very de- 
liberate, — sometimes with majestic slowness pouring out his 
wealth of language, and anon with low searcliing tones 
penetrating the ear even more distinctly than the strained 
utterances of other speakers. His voice was always clear 
and firm, without tremor ; his elocution excellent. The 
matter of his speeches was invariably sound and sensible. 
A scholar, but not in the pedantic sense of the term ; a man 
remarkable for the range of his learning, though making no 
pretensions to the doubtful reputation of the sciolist, his 
reading was classical and varied, his fund of illustration 
large, and his resources of imagery plentiful and always 
apposite. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 66 

! But what was most remarkable in Mr. Davis's style of 
eloquence Avas a manner which we believe constitutes the 
highest art of the orator — that of apparent self-coniinence in 
the expression of passion. It is by this peculiar manner, 
this appearance of suppressing the struggling emotions of 
the heart and only half speaking what is felt, that the con- 
summate orator often conveys more of passion to his hearers 
than when his rage " wreaks itself upon expression," and 

is lost in the storm and multitude of words. It is a nice 

t 

art, — a magnetic power ; and Mr. Davis, of all the speakers 
whom the author has ever heard in America, had it to per- 
fection, lie seldom stormed, he seldom spoke loudly or 
impetuously ; but he often filled the hearts of his hearers 
with unspeakable passion, and captured their entire sympa- 
thies by that evidently forced moderation of tone and lan- 
guage which leaves to the power of suggestion much that 
expression declines to attempt, and is incapable of con- 
veying. 

There was another remarkable trait of Mr. Davis as an 
orator. His eloquence was haughty and defiant, and his 
manners singularly imperious. He spoke as one who would 
not brook contradiction, who delivered his statements of 
truth as if without regard to anything said to the contrary, 
and who disdained the challenges of debate. With an ey^ 
sometimes kindling like the light that blazed on " Diomed's 
crest ;" with a countenance engraven with passion ; with a 
form erect but elastic, he presented the clear-cut, conspicu- 
ous front of a proud and dangerous antagonist. The author 
recollects him in one of the passages of the debate in the 
Senate on the famous Kansas bill, when he shone as the im- 
personation of defiant pride, and threw his haughty challenge 
in the face of a political enemy. Mr. Douglas, of Illinois, 



34 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

had twitted some of his Democratic friends for what he de- 
clared their alleged defection, and had promised certain con- 
ditions to them when he was able to dictate their restoration 
to the party. Mr. Davis rose suddenly to his feet, with erect 
and dilated figure, and, striking his breast, exclaimed proudly 
and passionately : ^^ I scorn your quarter P'' 

The Senator from Mississippi and the Little Giant of the 
West met frequently in debate, and often with passionate 
encounter. There were scarcely any points of comparison 
between these two men, — the first, the finest orator in the 
Senate, and the latter, one of the ablest debaters there. 
Great as he was in some sense, there was no man of his 
times more over-rated than Stephen A. Douglas ; and an 
estimate of his character here is interesting in illustration 
of what we may have occasion to suggest elsewhere in this 
work, — that loose judgment of the public Avhich mistakes a 
narrow excellence for greatness, and special accomplishments 
for unlimited capacities. 

Mr. Douglas had his specialty. There was no public man 
in the country of his high grade who was more exclusively 
a politician. Politics was the specialty of his life, and em- 
braced all his mind. He had no literary accomplishments ; 
he appears to have profoundly read no other history than that 
of America ; and outside the competitions of political life he 
was wholly unknown. There is something unpleasant in 
this intellectual scantiness of his life, this devotion to a 
single pursuit. But Mr. Douglas was certainly the most 
consummate of politicians, "the Little Giant" in his small 
Avorld of ambition. He had that ready and intricate skill 
which comes from the close and narrow study of a specialty, 
an acuteness carried to the nicest point of perfection by a 
division of labor. He was so thoroughly a master of the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 35 

political history of the country as to constantly defeat men 
who were intellectually above him, by his superiority in 
facts; and his great power in debate was his minute and 
remote illustrations drawn from this special fund of know- 
ledge. He had at his fingers' ends all the Congressional 
Annals and Globes, National Registers, and political encyclo- 
pedias of eyery sort, from " Cluskey's Text-Book" to the 
briefest vade mecum. In this intricate field of knowledge 
he had no rival ; his illustrations gathered there were 
weapons, and they sometimes bore down the most formid- 
able arrays of intellect, and scattered the literary ornaments 
and flowery language of his cultivated competitors. 

Mr. Douglas was a pecidiar character in the political 
literature of America. He may be described as a characteris- 
tic product of the broad and free life of the West, and his 
career wonderfully illustrates the developing influences of 
American institutions. He plunged into politics from the 
time he first passed the early struggles of poverty, and was 
free from the concern of livelihood. There are many anec- 
dotes of the perplexed poverty of his youth. He was born 
in Vermont, worked when he was fifteen years old as an 
apprentice to a cabinet-maker, and wandered. West in a 
vspirit of adventure, so careless and comical as to make his 
early life at once amusing and instructive. He describes 
himself on one occasion of his travels in Illinois as reduced 
in funds to thirty-seven and a half cents. With this sum in 
his pockets he entered the town of W^iuchoster, in Illinois, 
and chancing to come upon an illiterate auctioneer selling- 
goods in the street, he offered to keep his accounts. In three 
days he made six dollars, advanced his views, and on this 
capital opened a school. The next step was a strident one, 
and ended with a nomination to Congress. 



36 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

lie lost the election by five votes. But ho was consoled 
by an appointment to the supreme bench of Illinois, and here 
he obtained the title ol' Judge, by Avhich he was familiarly 
known to the day of his death. In 1847 he was elected to 
the Senate of the United States, and here he at once became 
famous in recommending a characteristic policy in the foreign 
allhirs of the country. 

It may be claimed for Mr. Douglas that he originated the 
gushing school of " young America," if he did not, in fact, 
introduce these words for the first time in the political litera- 
ture of the countr3\ No experiment on public sentiment 
could have been more happy and captivating at the particu- 
lar period in which Mr. Douglas first introduced himself to 
national attention. It was a time when the Cuban question 
was at its heat, when our foreign relations were deranged 
and unsatisfactory, when "Anglophobia" had iigain become 
a title of popularity, and Avhen reports of constant searches 
of American vessels by British cruisers on the Gulf of Mexico, 
the mare clausum of America, were spurring public indigna- 
tion to the rowels. Mr. Douglas was at once for radical and 
daring measures. He was ready to take possession of " the 
gem of the Antilles," to annex Canada, and to send a national 
war vessel on the track of the British cruisers. The party 
supporting such measures was aptly named "Young Amer- 
ica ;" it had no distinctive body or organization, but as a 
sentiment it Avas definite and characteristic enough to make 
]\Ir. Douglas suddenly and immensely famous, and to p)rocure 
for him an almost intoxicating draught of popularity. His 
favorite rhetorical figure was an " ocean-bound republic ;" he 
taught a rapid and inflanimatory progress ; the literature of 
the day reeked with caricatures of those who opposed this 
sudden inflation of American pride and ambition. The " old 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDKRACY. o7 

fogy" was a miserable wi-etch "sitting over the shirt-tail of 
progress crying woe, woe !" This grotesque term has since 
become nearly obsolete in our politics, and the afflatus of 
"Young America" has since passed into the general patriot- 
ism of the country; but the popularity made out of the pass- 
ing transport was Mr. Douglas's first stage in fame, on which 
ensued a long and important career. 

It would be merely to repeat some very familiar history to 
detail Mr. Douglas's record on that peculiar "territorial ques- 
tion" which preceded the late war, and, in fact, was its most 
obvious and visible occasion. The vexed question of Slavery 
in connection with the. government of the Territories, was 
the main topic of his public life, and furnished those theatres 
of debate on which he was such a central and conspicuous 
figure. The political record has become trite from repetition ; 
but Mr. Douglas's personal history in the controversy is one 
of vivid and dramatic interest. Ho realized the most various 
experience of public opinion, the utmost sliifts of adventui-e 
in the changeful and intricate controversy extending from the 
Compromise Measures of 1850 to the opening of the war in 
the next decade. At one time, he was almost apotheosizcl, 
at another time incontinently damned. It was a striking ex- 
ample of " the fickle vulgar," and of the uncertain tides in the 
life of a great politician. At one time the City Council of 
Chicago voted Mr. Douglas in the company of '"'the Benedict 
Arnolds and Judas Iscariots of history," and thereafter, ex- 
punging the record, received him with the iionors of a con- 
queror. In 1854, when he was bearing the burden of the 
repeal of the ISIissouri Compromise, it was said that " he 
could ride from Boston to Chicago by the light of his blazing 
efligy in the night, and in sight of his hanging efligy by day." 
On this occasion the indignation of Chicago, the tumultuous 



SS LIFE OF JEFFERSON DATIS, WITH A 

metropolis of tlie "West, Avas again erect, and the Senator, re- 
tnriiing to his home, was received by a city bristling with 
mobs. He attempted to address a crowd from the balcony 
of his hotel ; but they Avould not hear him, and they drowned 
his straggling words with insults, and jeers and taunts and 
shouts of defiance. It was a remarkable struggle of the per- 
sistence of a single, brave, and clear- toned speaker, with the 
clamor of a hoarse and brutal mob. For four long hours, 
from eight o'clock in the evening, Mr. Douglas struggled for 
a hearing, edging in a Avord wherever he could, expostvilating, 
defying, shaming, entreating, as the moods of the mob ap- 
peared to vary. Finally, when the hour of midnight was 
struck, he took out his watch, looked at it very deliberately, 
and said : " It is Sunday morning ; I have to» go to church, 
and you — may go to h — 1 !" 

In the Kansas controversy, and the involved question of 
popular sovereignty, Mr. Douglas had abundant opportunities 
of that passionate controversy which his strong and aggres- 
sive nature craved; He was never so great and powerful as 
when spurred by controversy and baited by his political 
opponents. He had a supreme self-confidence, and his tones 
of defiance were clear and ringing. xVlthough not an orator 
in the highest sense, he had an intellectual vividness that was 
nearly akin to eloquence, and his intrepidity was like an in- 
spiration. When the "Lecomptonites" sought to "read him 
out of the Democratic party," and a group of Democratic 
Senators, among whom Jefl'erson Davis was conspicuous, were 
constant in their recriminations, he said, with great disdain, 
that he would return from Illinois a Senator for six years 
longer, and would then take occasion of further reph^ to the 
enemies confronting him, preferring to save time and unne- 
cessary fatigue by "firing upon them in a bunch." At this 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 89 

remark Mr. Davis grew warm, denouncing it as unexampled 
insolence ; and it was on an occasion in the same speech of 
Mr. Douglas that he struck his breast in a theatrical manner, 
and declared that he would never accept ''quarter" from the 
Senator from Illinois. 

Mr. Davis had his specialties as well as Mr. Douglas ; some 
of them were, perhaps, even narrower than those of the 
Senator from Illinois; but whatever was the force of the 
former, in the Senate of the United States, he certainly had a 
breadth of literary culture to which the Western man could 
not pretend. Mr. Douglas had a ready reference in the 
political history of the country, and was, thus, often able to 
overthrow his opponent on particular questions of party ; but 
Mr. Davis had an immense fund of historical and literary 
illustration, and excelled his antagonist in the general elTcct 
of his speeches taken as a whole. In the brief and ready 
colloquy, Douglas had no superior in the Senate ; in the 
orderly and elaborate discourse, Davis stood pre-eminent. 
Whenever it came to the lengthened debate between the two, 
the latter was likely to carry off the palm of superiority. 

Mr. Douglas was particularly sore in the Kansas contro- 
versy under the imputation cast upon him by his removal 
from the position he had long held of chairman of the Com- 
mittee on Territories. It was a proclamation of a Democratic 
majority in the Senate, that his doctrine of " squatter sov- 
ereignty" was a heresy, a defamation, in fact, of that high 
principle of popular sovereignty which ]\[r. Davis himself 
had avowed in the Kansas-Nebraska bill, and which breathed 
the true spirit of American institutions. The first impression 
of the difference between Mr. Douglas and the Southern 
Democracy — the former contending that the people in the 
Territories were from- the first date of their settlement com- 



40 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

petent to decide the question of slavery, and the latter con- 
tending that they could do so only when the Territory was 
prepared to ask admission into the Union, and was in the act 
of assuming the sovereignty of a State — -is that of an unim- 
portant and technical question, a mere aftair of circumstance 
and time. But it was a question that really went to the 
heart of the sectional controversy. Mr. Douglas's " squatter 
sovereignty " Avas in fact, a concession to the Anti-Slavery 
sentiment of the North ; it proposed to decide the question of 
Slavery in the new States by a hasty and disorganized action, 
in whicli the facilities of the ISTortli for colonization might 
easily stock a factitious vote and override the rights of the 
South ; it suggested a plan by Avhich a few " emigrant aid 
societies" might take a "snap-judgment " on southern insti- 
tutions, even more effective than a Congressional prohibition ; 
and it furnished to the Abolitionists an instrument practically 
more certain and expeditious than the blunted and undis- 
guised measures with which they had formerly waged a 
desultory war upon the institution of Slavery. 

It was on this broad issue that Mr. Davis repeatedly en- 
countered the Senator from Illinois, and illustrated more than 
one triumph of luminous and scholarly eloquence over the in- 
genious vapor of the demagogue. Mr. Davis was but seldom 
personal or acrimonious in his speeches ; when he designed to 
Avound, he was sarcastic rather than aggressive ; but more 
than once in debate with Douglas, he lost his temper, and 
rushed at his antaG:onist with an unsrovernable violence. 
There was a marked animosity between the two Senators ; 
one of the most important contests in the politics of America 
found them foce to lace ; and the combatants were ready to 
strip their lances as in a controversy of life and death. On 
one occasion in 1S60, Mr. Douglas spoke uninterruptedly for 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 41 

two days in the Senate, hurling defiance at those who had 
degraded him from the position of chairman of Committee on 
Territories. ]\Ir. Davis replied at ahnost equal length ; he 
went over the whole ground of controversy, and made the 
most telling and complete speech of his life. He disclaimed 
personalities but with characteristic ingenuity made his very 
disclaimer the channel of attack, the conduit of scorn and 
contempt. "Nothing," he declared, "but the most egregious 
vanity, something far surpassing even the bursting condition 
of swollen pride, could have induced the Senator from 
Illinois to believe that I could not speak of s(jiiatter sovereignty 
without meaning him." He scorned the narrow rule of pro- 
scription on slight differences in parties; but at the same time 
he accommodated to this a noble declaration concerning the 
integrity of political opinions. He spoke of that common 
subject in American politics, the disgraceful compromises of 
parties for the spoils of office. He said, "I cannot respect 
such a doctrine as that Avhich says, 'you may construe the 
Constitution your way, and I will construe it mine ; we will 
waive the merit of these two constructions, and harmonize to- 
gether until the courts decide the question between us.' A 
man is bound to have an opinion upon any political subject 
upon which he is called to act ; it is skulking his responsibility 
for a citizen to say, ' Let us express no opinion ; I will agree 
that you may have yours, and I will have mine : we will co- 
operate politically together ; we will beat the opposition, divide 
the spoils, and leave it to the court to decide the question 
between us.' I do not believe that this is the path of safety ; 
I am sure it is not the way of honor." 

It was a noble speech ; and is referred to here, for much 
of the character of Mr. Davis in debate, and for something 
of his elevated moral tone in public life. Naturally passion- 



42 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS. WITH A 

ate, his temper was usually moderated b}' a fine and cultiva- 
ted language ; ambitious, be yet disdained the low etYorts 
of the demagogue and courted popularity decorously ; suc- 
cessful in politics, a man having many propitious opportu- 
nities, he was yet never caught in a corrupt bargain, a 
fraudulent adventure or any aftair which could be counted 
personally dishonorable, or which might not be pardoned to 
the common spirit of intrigue in the politics of the country. 
No shadow ever fell upon his personal honor in the Senate 
of the United States; and even the malign persecution of him 
in a "lost cause " has foiled to find in this part of his life 
anything of personal reproach, moral delinquency or intellec- 
tual weakness. 

The career of Mr. Davis in the Senate is undoubtedly the 
best and most honorable part of his public life. It was 
singularly pure, elevated, and well-sustained. In whatever 
other times and characters he was deficient, he will, at least, 
be known in future and just history as an orator who adorned 
the highest councils of his country, and as a scholar who 
has left in his literary compositions models already studied 
and applauded in two continents. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 43 



CHAPTER III. 

The Election of Abraham Lincoln, President, not the Cause of the War — A Pecnliiir Aristocracy in 
the South — The Power of tliis Section in the hands of Politicians rather than Slaveholders — 
Remarkable Speeches in the Convention of South Carolina — The State Conventions Mere 
Puppets — The Centre of the Conspiracy at Washington — Jefferson Davis Among the Conspir- 
ators — Critical Examination of His Eecord on the Question of Disunion — Its Inconsistency — 
Ilis Early Extravagances for theUnion — Ills Conduetiu Congress in 1850 — Prophetic Wnniiiig 
of Henry Clay — Mr. Davis' Ambition to succeed Calhoun — His Effrontery — Connection with Iho 
" Kesistance " Party of Mississippi as its Candidate for Governor — His lleniarkable Explanatimi 
of the Designs of this Party — Inconsistency of this Explanation — Mr. Davis enters the Cabinet 
of President Pierce as a Union Man — Repudiates the " Resistance" Party — His Responsibility 
for the Kansas-Nebraska Bill — Union Speech in Mississippi — Mr. Davis Regards the Kansas 
Settlement as a Triumph for the South — He is Bit by the Ambition for a Presidential Nomi- 
nation — An Electioneering Tour in Now York and Maine — "Slaver" of Fraternal Affection — 
Insincerity of Mr. Davis's Record on the Question of Disunion — The Cause of the South Dis- 
figured by the Ambition of its Leaders, but not therefore to bo Dishonored — A Brief History 
of Disunion — The South Suffered from a General Appreheuson Rather than a Si)ecific Alarm 
— Tlie Action of her Politicians, neither a Test of Her Spirit, nor a Measure of the Justice of 
Her Cause — The Condition of Washington, in December, 1S60. 

The election of Abraliam Lincoln to the Presidency of the 
United States might have precipitated the Secessionarj move 
nient of the Southern States; but it certainly did not produce 
it. For many years the thought of Disunion had gathered 
in the South, and it was at last executed by a small number 
of politicians — for there is nothing more singular in the 
history of the war, than the narrow and exclusive control, in 
the South at least, which managed its initiation, compelled 
the people to it, and brought upon the country the rage of 
sectional arms. 

We shall have future occasion to see how the war was 
compelled by a few politicians, and to what extent the people 



44 LIFE OF JEFFERSOy DAVIS, WITH A 

were excluded from tlie early drama of its inauguration. 
How these few persons were able to do so mucli can only be 
understood from tlie peculiar constitution of society in the 
South. In that part of the Union there had long been a 
singular aristocracy — not that oligarchy of slaveholders gene- 
rally imputed to it — but an aristocracy that was not consti- 
tuted by birth, wealth, or manners, but that rested mainly on 
the titles and dignities of public life. The aristocracy of the 
South is properly described as an aristocracy of politicians — 
men who had naturally other coincident claims to superiority, 
who, perhaps, owned slaves, possessed wealth, or might assert 
some sort of social merit, but who governed the masses and 
reposed their superiority mainly on the eminence of public 
office. Such an aristocracy is naturally narrow, restless, and 
badly ambitious. It had ruled the South for man'}^ years ; in 
that part of the Union there was not only a marked' and close 
monopoly of public office, but even some trace of hereditary 
descent in it ; and the greater politicians of the South were as 
distinct and imperious a class as men in any single occupation 
have ever formed. 

It was this class in the South that had long indulged the 
thought of Disunion, and that for years had paved the Avay 
to its consummation. Many of them saw in it new careers ; 
the more ardent sought in it opportunities of ambition ; and 
not a few old and spent politicians hoped to gratifj^ in it a 
mean and slothful greed of office. The war took such men 
neither by surprise nor by force. Tliey had plotted and de- 
sired it ; they saw in the accommodations of the contest, new 
fortunes and emoluments for themselves ; and they seized 
with alacrity the occasion to realize the hopes of years. 

The first remarkable step of the South ensuing on the 
election of Mr. Lincoln, was the Convention of South Caro- 



SECEET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 45 

liiia, which on the 20th of December, 1861, passed an ordi- 
nance of Secession, and declared that the State had resumed 
her sovereignty. In the debates of this Convention there was 
a tone of congratulation, rather than the foreboding and depre- 
cation which might have been supposed would have prefaced 
a great and disastrous civil war. "It is no spasmodic effort 
that has suddenly come upon us," said one of the members ; 
" it has been gradually culminating for a long series of years.'' 
" Most of us," declared another, " have had this matter under 
consideration for the last twenty years." Others, and among 
them those who had long led in the Disunion party, could not 
contain their joy at the consummation of their hopes, and 
spoke with something of the intoxication of success. Mr. 
Keitt said : — " AVe are performing a great act, which involves 
not only the stirring present, but embraces the whole great 
future of ages to come. I have been engaged in this move- 
ment ever since I entered political life. I am content with 
what has been done to-day, and content Avith what will take 
place to-morrow. We have carried the' body of this Union 
to its last resting place, and now we will drop the flag over 
its grave." Mr. Ehett said more plainly : — " The secession of 
South Carolina is not the event of a day. It is not anything 
produced by Mr. Lincoln's election, or by the non-execution of 
the fugitive slave law. It has been a matter which has been 
gathering head for thirty years." The consummation of so 
much of eftbrt and of desire was proclaimed on the day South 
Carolina passed an ordinance of secession ; and after such 
sj^eeches as those referred to, it is not surprising that the 
audience in the hall of the Convention, on the announcement 
of the vote rending the bonds of the Union, should have risen 
to their feet and hailed the event with wild and impassioned 
cheers. 



46 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

But we shall not linger upon the history of the several 
State Conventions which successively and respectively severed 
their States I'roni the Union, The early stor}^ of the war 
does not belong there. Its true seat and theatre were in 
Washington City. There Avas the true dramatic centre of the 
conspiracy, there the real spring of the plot ; and the State 
Conventions passing pretentiously their ordinances of seces- 
sion, and affecting deliberation where all had already been 
advised, were really but the puppets at the ends of the wires. 

The true history of the war takes us then to Washington 
— takes us to a small but powerful company of politicians who 
had assumed there the question of peace or war. Among 
these brilliant conspirators stood conspicuous Jefferson Davis 
— alert, magnetic, keen in his ambition, his weak health re- 
stored by excitement, quickened with nervous transports, a 
man having many qualities of leadership, a nature easily in- 
flated with great occasions, but without the true and robust 
pregnancy of a real greatness. For the present, however, he 
was the most observed of all the Southern Eepresentatives at 
the capital, and took with facility and grace the position of 
their leader. 

Mr. Davis' record on the question of Disunion was greatly 
mixed and contradictory — one of those inconsistent careers 
which could only have been tolerated in the loose habits of 
American politics, that care but little for the antecedents of 
public men, have a very feeble estimate of consistency, and 
are prone to forget whatever is of record in the past, in the 
busv and tumultuous excitements of a strained and excessive 
pai'tvism. Mr. Davis had first entered Congress as a ful- 
some, young declaimer of that easy and popular theme — the 
blessings of the Union, He had the sophomorial tumour of 
" the o-lorious Uiuon " on the brain. He sought to excel in 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 47 

the competitions of devotion to this idol of the populace, and 
this commonplace of demagogues. In his first important 
speech in the House of Representatives, delivered in 1846, he 
had said : — " From sire to son has descended the love of 
Union in our hearts, as in our history are mingled the names 
of Concord and Camden, of Yorktowa and Saratoga, of 
Moultrie and Plattsburg, of Chippewa and Erie, of Bowyer 
and Guilford, and New Orleans and Bunker Hill, Grouped 
together, they form a monument to the common glory of our 
common country ; and where is the Southern man who would 
wish that that monument were less by one of the Northern 
names that constitute the mass ?" 

Yet in 1850, he had opposed the " Compromise Measures " 
in the Senate, and was repeatedly rebuked there for the senti- 
ment of disunion. In a private conversation Henry Clay 
had spoken to him in terms of mingled expostulation and 
warning. " Come," said the venerable Senator from Kentucky, 
— anxious to win another vote for what he regarded as the 
supreme work of his life, then suspended in a divided Con- 
gress, — "join us in these measures of pacification, and they 
will assure to the country thirty years of peace. By that time 
I will be under the sod, and you, tny young friend^ may then 
have trouble againy But the ardent Senator from Mississippi 
was intractable. He had already conceived the ambition of 
talcing the mantle of Calhoun in the Senate, and in the zeal 
of a poor and coarse imitation he was already violently 
afiecting all tlie ideas of the dead statesman and champion of 
the South. He would lower none of the demands of the 
South. He announced its ultimatum in a hi<2:h and menacinij 
tone. With a pretension that little became his relations 
with the venerable Henry Clay, he thus spoke in the Senate, 
in 1850 : — '' That I may be understood upon this question, 



48 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

and that my position ma}^ go forth to tlie country in the 
same columns that convey the sentiments of the Senator from 
Kentucky, I here assert that never will I take less than the 
^[issonri Compromise line to the Pacilie Ocean, with specilic 
right to hold slaves in the territory below that line ; and that 
before such territories are admitted into the Union as States, 
slaves may be taken there from au}^ of the United States at 
the option of the owners." — Certainly, John C. Calhoun could 
not have spoken more distinctly, more imperiously, or with 
greater arrogation of the importance of himself in the Senate 
of the United States. 

In 1851, after the passage of the " Compromise Measures " 
Mr. Davis, as if resolved upon the utmost role of " disunion- 
ist," and probably spurred by his ambition to take the place 
of Calhoun, removed his opposition to the measures referred 
to. to the local politics of Mississippi, and had consented to 
stand as candidate of the State Rights or "resistance''^ party 
for the office of Governor of the State. He was rebuked b}' 
a defeat. A short time thereafter we shall find him modify- 
ing his views, and attempting the popular current of a re- 
newed devotion, a restored allegiance to the Union. Bnt in 
advance of this mark or indentation of his record, there is a 
passage of history connected with his party campaign of 
Governor for Mississippi of remarkable interest, and of a 
significance which appears not heretofore to have been per- 
ceived. 

The party in Mississippi referred to, as headed by Mr. 
Davis, was popularly known as tlie "resistance" party. It 
recited a long list of grievances. It named no less than six 
dilferent causes, for which the people of ]\[ississippi might 
resort to the most extreme remedies. Yet when Mr. Davis, 
in the month of May, ISOO, — a time when he was displaying 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 49 

himself as a conservative supporter of President Buchanan's 
administration, and probably attempting the new career of a 
moderator in public life — was reminded in the Senate of 
having been formerly involved in a scheme of disunion, he 
explained his connection with the period of Mississippi 
politics, referred to : — " The case only requires that I should 
say that the party to ivhicli I hehnged did not then, nor al any 
'previous time, propose to go out of the Union^ hut to h.(ivr a 
Southern convention for consultation as to future contingencies 
threatened and anticipated.''^ — Yet a few months later, the same 
man who had professed the idea of resistance to usurpations 
of the Federal autliority, only to the extent of challenging 
them in a convention and bringing them before a tribunal 
of the States — which was indeed the length and breadth of 
Calhoun's doctrine of " nuUifaction " — was demanding dis- 
union for evils not greater than that which the Mississippi 
resistants had "anticipated," and was ready to rush to the 
arbitration of the sword ! 

But we return to the chronological order of Mr. Davis's 
record. In 1852, impressed by the election of the previous 
year in Mississippi, ho openly repudiated the scheme of dis- 
union, to the extent of supporting the nomination of Franklin 
Pierce for President, and actually abandoning the party 
which had nominated the Presidential ticket of Troup and 
Quitman upon the distinctive platform of State Rights and 
separation. He was rewarded with a place in President 
Pierce's Cabinet. Here he played the part of an intense 
Union or compromise man ; and it is a significant incident, 
showing what views were lield of his disposition in Mr. 
Pierce's Cabinet, that he was sought by the friends of Stephen 
A. Douglas as an intermediary to obtain the pledge of the 
President's approval of the Kansas-Nebraska bill — "the 
4 



50 LIFE OF JEFFEKSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Pandoras' box" — in advance of its introduction into Congress. 
And he did obtain it, and thns became directly responsible 
for a measure, which the Democratic party in the South 
afterwards sought busily to disown, and to ascribe to the 
ambition of Mr. Douo-las. 

In 1857 Mr. Davis returned to the Senate of the United 
States. He marked his way to the capital by a speech 
delivered at a small town in Mississippi, professing increased 
devotion to the Union. He spoke with eloquence on this 
subject, and with something of the profusion of the enthusi- 
ast. He would not disguise the profound emotion with which 
he contemplated the possibility of disunion. The fondest 
reminiscences of his life were associated with the Union, into 
whose military service, while yet a boy, he had entered. In 
his natured manhood he had followed its flag to victory ; had 
seen its graceful folds wave in the peaceful pageant, and again 
its colors conspicuous amid the triumph of the battle-lield; 
he had seen that flag in the East, brightened by the sun at 
its rising, and in the West, gilded by its declining rays — and 
the tearing of one star from its azure field would be to him 
as the loss of a child to a bereaved parent ! 

In 1858, after the battle with the Douglas party, and when 
the South was regarding what it thought a doubtful field, 
Jefferson Davis was among the first to re-assure those who 
were disposed to despair of the Union, or were distrustful of 
the prospects of the South, after a combat so hard-fought, so 
elaborate, and through which it was so difficult to run the 
line of victory, and to determine where success rested. He 
declared in a public letter to the people of his State that the 
"Kansas Conference bill" was "the triumph of a?? for which 
we contended." 

Durinsr the recess of Cono-ress after the settlement of the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 51 

Kansas question, Mr. Davis, bit by the ambition of a Presiden- 
tial nomination, cornnionced to go tbrongh all the wretched 
affectations of a candidate for this position — those demagogical 
devices in dinners, serenades, etc., that making of occasions of 
national significance, that traditional coquetting of sections, 
that deprecation of partisanship, those ingenious equivocations 
and agreeable platitudes, which have generally been taken 
among American politicians as an unfailing sign of an aspira- 
tion to the White House at Washington. He commenced 
the unmistakable nnitine of a candidate for the Presidency. 
He travelled North. In October, 1858, he spoke in 
Faneuil Hall, Boston. A few days later he addressed an 
immense Democratic meeting in New York. In reply to an 
invitation to attend the Webster Birthday Festival, held in 
Boston, he wrote, with withering indignation, of "partisans 
who avow the purpose of obliterating the landmarks of our 
fathers," and of men "whose oaths to support the Constitu- 
tion had been taken with a mental reservation to disregard 
its spirit." He asked "to be enrolled among those whoso 
mission is by fraternity and good faith to every constitutional 
obligation, to ensure that, from the Aroostook to San Diego, 
from Key West to Puget Sound, the grand arch of our politi- 
cal temple shall stand unshaken." He penetrated even to 
Miiine as knight-errant of tlie Union, and candidate for the 
White House. He accepted a serenade in Portland " with- 
out distinction of party." "The occasion was," said a local 
journal, "in every respect the expression of generous senti- 
ments, of kindness, hospitality, friendly regard, and the 
brotherhood of American citizenship." The Senator from 
Mississippi, the head of the old "Resistance" party, the 
qnondam, competitor for the mantle of Calhoun, had suddenly 
become the apostle of " nationalism" and the messenffer to the 



02 LIFE OF JEFFERSON* DAVIS, WITH A 

North of peace and of love, beyond all Southern men of his 
day. His aftection for the North ran actually into slaver. 
He surpassed the usual pledges of demagogues ; he loved the 
people around him not onh* as brothers, but he proposed to 
dedicate his infant son to the Portlanders. It was a singular 
ceremou}'- of devotion. ''If." said the orator, "at some future 
time when I am mingled with the dust, and the arm of my 
intant son has been nerved for deeds of manhood, the storm of 
war should burst upon your city, I feel that, relying upon his 
inheriting the instincts of his ancestors and mine. I may pledge 
him in that perilous hour to stand by your side in the defence 
of your hearth-stones.*' He hoped that the flag over his head 
" would forever lly as free as the breeze which uufolds it," 
and after this invocation, scarcely original, he sat down under 
it amid tumultuous cheers. 

Such was the man who, iu December, 1S60, appeared in 
Washington, chief among the Southern Disunionists, angered 
by disappointed ambition, and eager for a new career — anxious 
to play the grand game of compensation in his fortunes, as 
leader of a revolutionary movement. 

In the record we have recited there is an insincerity which 
cannot be overlooked. AYe are not permitted to doubt tluit 
Jefferson Davis, in his leading part in the Secession conspiracy 
at Washington, was moved by personal ambition, when we 
consider the antecedents of his public life, his recent, and yet 
raw disappointment of a Presidential nomination, his nervous 
and restless nature, and his passion for leadership. But to 
those remarks the author must attach an explanation to defend 
himself against misconstruction. The reflections which he 
has cast upon ^[r. Davis and oth^r politicians of the South by 
no means include the cause for which they acted, and the 
merits and justice of it are certainly not to be confounded with 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY 53 

the unworthiness of some of its partisans. Because the cause 
of the South was defaced by the personal ambition of poli- 
ticians, we have no right to conclude that it was neither just 
nor meritorious. 

Indeed, every candid historian must admit that the causes 
of Southern complaint had accumulated up to the time of 
President Lincoln, and that the election of this man was to a 
certain extent, the signal of the aggravated prosecution of the 
irrepressible conflict, which he himself had declared, between 
the institutions of the South and the ideas of the North. Dis- 
union was not so much the speculative project of the Southern 
mind, as it was the growing bitter fruit of Northern injustice. 
The history of the idea of Disunion is curious and desultory. 
It had first appeared in the North, and was first announced 
in Congress in a speech of Mr. Quincy, of Massachusetts, de- 
livered in 1811 ; it was next developed in the Hartford Con- 
vention ; it was renewed on the memorable measure of the 
Missouri Compromise, in 1819 ; it disappeared for more than 
a decade from the politics of America; it was violently re- 
vived by the Tariff discussions of 1831-2 ; and it thereafter 
progressed through a multiplication and perplexity of causes, 
which it would take too much space here to arrange in 
detail, and of which it has Avell been stated, " the acts of 
oppression could not be stated in precise words or estimated in 
figures." In truth, any attempt at such detail must essentially 
be defective, so various had become the forms of hostihty to 
th^ South which the North displayed. At the time of Presi- 
dent Lincoln's election, this hostility of the North had become 
so pervasive and popular, tliat it eludes analysis, and renders 
specifications unnecessary ; it could no longer be measured 
by political acts; it had become habitual through every ex- 
pression of Northern opinion; it was in its literature, its 



54 LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX PAVIS, AVITII A 

pulpit, its social ollices, its daily oonvorsations; it luul grown 
to such proportions, and was so reaching and subtile in its 
ramilications. that the intelligent and philosophic historian 
must observe that the protest of the South Avas not so nnich 
against any particular scries of }>olitieal measures as against 
the whole current oi' Northern sentiment, the entire ai\iuuis 
of that section on the vsubject of so-called slavery. 

The mind of the South had really come to disdain speeiii- 
cations on this subject. It sutVered from u general appre- 
hension rather than a specific alarm ; and the election oi' 
Abraham Lincoln was a vagno addition to this nneasiness 
rather than a jvirticular cause of complaint. Whether the 
Soutii might have been reassured at this time by any act of 
legislative wisdom; whether her grievances admitted of com- 
promise, and whether an adjnstment could have been made 
which would have spared the extremity of the sword, is one 
of those questions so entirely dependent on speculation, and 
so nntried by facts, that the opinion of mankind is likely tv> 
remain long divided on it. The partial action of her poli- 
ticians on this subject, alVords no true test of it. They, wu 
repeat, were concerned at Washington, with their own schemes 
of personal ambition, rather than with a work of public in- 
terest; and yet in referring again to their n.arrow- and seltish 
control of the affairs of the South, we are forced to rellect, 
that even under that system of aristocratic rule whieh badly 
adorned public life in the South, these men could not have 
asserted so complete a command of the issue of Disunion, had 
there not been anunigthe people of the South a wide and deep- 
seated dissati&taetion to impel them, and to sustain the experi- 
ment of a new government. It is always dilT\enlt to say what 
ajiare persoi\al ambition has in causing wars and revolutions; 
it n\ust alwavs be mixed more or less with general causes; 



SKCJtKT lIISrORY OF 'J'lIK COUFKUKKAMY. ijij 

am], in tlio (;;iso to vvliicJi wcui'i; i^ilcrriir!^, wliilt; rriaking justly 
promin(;)il tlio riK^tivos wlii(;li \v<; lj(;li(;V(; '/ovovwcd tli<>s(j vvlio 
prcoi[)iUitc;d war frtjiii Wasliington, wo by ikj means imply 
that otlicr cauBCS did not c(j-opoi'atc with tlicni, or tliat tin; 
merit of Southern resistanee is to be ni(;asur(;(l by tlie seld.sli- 
ncss ol" a few men vvlio assumed to represent it. 

These men had e(;me to Washington in l^eeemljor, 1800, 
full of the i<hia of Disunion, many of tliem bursting witham- 
bition, and some eager to vent tlujii- arroganee in (Jongress, 
where they had before suffered anything of reproaeh ov oC 
defeat. Tlie South, and the winkle country, were in anxifjus 
and dumb expectation, rather than in the condition of posi- 
tive and pi-onoiuK;ed i(U;as ; and it was precisely in this un- 
determined state of public opinion that a few |K>litieians might 
assume the largest control of public affairs, and determine by 
rapid measures the destinies of a nation. Such was the con- 
dition i]i which a (j(;ngress, the most m(;morabie in American 
history, and yet the most trivial in some respects, met ; and in 
which the message of James IJuchanan, tlio weakest and most 
plausible of Presidents, was given, not only to his country, but 
to an interested and anxious world. 



56 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTER IV. 

Remarkable Effect of the Message of Presulent BucUauan — A Spectacle in the White House— A 
Singular Tauso in the Movoment of Secession — Mr. Keitt's Kemarks on the Situation — ^The 
Southern Leaders Actually Abandon the Scheme of Disunion— 'It is liesumed on Major 
Andei'sou's Occupation of Fort Sumter — A Question of Concealed Importance — How the 
Questionof " the Forts" determined the War — Mr. Floyd's Adroitness — Secret History of the 
Junta of Fourteen in Washington — A Kevolutionary Council in the Shadow of the Capitol — 
Their Kxtraonlinary Usurpations — .Tcfferson Paris and "the Committoo of Three" — True 
Date of the Commencement of the War — Why Mr. Davis was Chosen Leader — In the First 
Programme of the Southern Confederacy, 11. M.T. Hunter, of Virginia, Designed for President — 
How ho Lost the Position of Loader — A Fatal motion in the Senate — Comparison of the 
Claims of Hunter and Davis for the Position of Leader. 

The message of the President, delivered to Cong-ress, in 
December, 1860, bad an effect wliicli has not been duly 
appreciated in history, and which was scarcely recognized in 
the newspapers of the day. Mr. Buchanan was timid, secre- 
tive, ingenious ; one of those time-serving politicians, who 
had managed to keep constantly in public life, not an osten- 
tatious partisan, but a traditional office-holder, an "old public 
functionary," one of those men who make extraordinary 
successes in the political arena without the force of merit 
and through the sheer ingenuity of the demagogue. He had 
neither courage nor intellectual decision. "To see him," said 
a distinguished Virginia politician, who visited him during 
the impending difficulties of the country, "cowering beneath 
the full-length portrait of Andrew Jackson on the mantel- 
piece of the reception-room of the White House, munching a 
dry cigar, and asking querulously what he could do, or what 
he should do, was more than human patience could endure, 



SECRET IIISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 57 

or human pity tolerate." This despicable old man was 
grotesquely balancing on the question of peace and war. lie 
was apparently resolved to trifle with the time-service of a 
great occasion, and he was desperately anxious to save the 
remnant of his administration from the imputation of a civil 
war. 

But perhaps his message was more artful than weak. 
However low and unworthy the motive which dictated it, 
nothing could have better answered the purpose of giving a 
pause to the movement of Secession, of suspending it, and of 
delaying, if not pacifying tlie excitement of the country. 
This result it performed with admirable ingenuity : and his 
message had thus a certain value in history, a decided 
appreciable effect, which has never been justly estimated 
in the accounts of this period. It took the sting from 
Secession ; it neutralized for a time the complaints of the 
South, and it removed those immediate causes of alarm on 
whicli the Soutlicrn leaders had calculated to ao-itate their 
.section and to pi-ecipitate its decision. If the country did 
not avail itself of this season of reflection, it was not Mr. 
Buchanan's fault. For nearly a month he held tlie Secession 
conspiracy at bay, and if the interval was not improved by 
the sober second thoughts of the people, they have themselves 
to blame for the loss of an opportunity. 

The autlior was in a company of Southern members of 
Congress when the information was first obtained, some days 
in advance of Mr. Buchanan's message, that it disclaimed 
"coercion," that it contained nothing to interrupt or to 
exasperate the movement of Secession, tliat it referred to it 
without menaces, and had nothing about it but tlie tone of a 
weak expostulation. The news had a dampening and curious 
effect. The question at once occurred whether the South 



oS "LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAYIS. WITH A 

could be put out of tlie Union without the force of added 
exasperation ; and indeed what reason could be urged for 
fresh anger or alai"m, when the General Government dis- 
claimed the idea of force, and there possibly might be found 
a provision in the Constitution to save that collision of arms, 
which the wisest of the Southern leaders knew was necessary 
to complete their scheme of separation, and to plant its line 
with a permanent animosity and discord. It was a baftling 
question. The conspirators had already lost more than half 
their capital — there was to be no coercion ; and when Mr. 
Keitt, of South Carolina, shook himself, '■ tetered,'' and de- 
clared, in his characteristic way, from major to minor premise, 
that tlie Pre^dent had "blocked the game," and that they 
must wait for contingencies, there were none of the company 
to gainsay him. 

The reniai-kable fact is historically certain that for several 
weeks after Mr. Buchanan's message, the Southern leaders 
abandoned or suspended the scheme of disunion, and had 
resolved simply to keep the question open as a standing- 
menace, and possibly as a means of compelling future terms. 
They could scarcely do more than maintain an equivocal 
attitude : they dared not pursue the idea of disunion in the 
face of the concessions of ^fr. Buchanan, or without occasions 
to refresh the excitement of the South. At the first meeting 
of Congress, they were confident of an earl}- separation of the 
South, and almost treated it as an accomplished fact ; now 
these same men in their private conversations, suggested the 
possibility of a settlement, advised their constituents not to 
sell, from alarm, property which they happened to own in 
Washington, and gave out tlie idea — none the less forcible 
because it was unwilling — that there might possibly; be a 
peaceful solution of the troubles of the country. Those who 



SECRET irrSTOllY OF 'J'lIE CONFEDEUACV. 59 

lived in Wasliiiigtou in tliis period oC licsitatioii, will well 
remember how balanced were the rumors of tliat time. It 
was a marked interval in the history of the conspiracy of 
disunion. Whether, on the hypotheses of certain events, the 
Secessionists niiglit liave been ballled and overruled, is a 
question we are not permitted to discuss; lor in this season 
of suspense came an event, one apparently slight and acci- 
dental, which decided it at once, and, more than any single 
incident, determined for the country the calamity of w;u'. 

This event was the surreptitious capture of Fort Sumter, 
in Charleston Harbor, by the Federal forces under Major 
Anderson, It occurred on the IGth of December, 1860. It 
was on its face a slight event ; there is ]io evidence that there 
was a deliberate design in it ; it had been undertaken, to be 
sui'c, in contravention of the equivocal policy of the President, 
and of his expi-ess pledge that the military status on the 
Southern coast should not be disturbed; it was merely the 
transfer of a Federal garrison to a moi'c advantageous post ; 
and yet it was an event which was vitally significant in the 
estimation of the Southern leaders, which interrupted all 
efforts for peace, and which, finally, more than any thing else, 
determined the alternative of war. 

1^0 understand the great importance of this event, and its 
extraordinary weight on the impending issue of Secession, it 
is necessary to make some explanations. 

The Southern States were full of arsenals and forts, which 
commanded their rivers and strategic points. The value of 
these forts was vilal, in a military j^oint of view, and with the 
ai-iny of the United States once transferred to them, the 
General Government would have been put in a position that 
might have paralyzed Secession, or secured an almost 
decisive advantage for the Federal power at the very com- 



60 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

mencement of the war. A few men in the country saw this. 
While the general public was but little concerned about the 
Federal forts in the South, many of which had been neglected 
for years, some of which were yet without garrisons, and not 
a few of which were not even known by name to persons of 
ordinary information, there had been a quiet estimate of their 
importance by the Southern leaders at Washington from the 
moment they had first meditated the consequences of Seces- 
sion. They saw readily enough that if the General Govern- 
ment secured possession of these forts, it could establish 
communications with the South, which the latter could 
scarcely cut off without the aid of a great fleet; and that if it 
was once determined at AVashington to reinforce these 
positions against a chance to take them by surprise, or cov,p 
de main, the South would have lost an opportunity which it 
would be impossible to regain and incurred a disadvantage 
which it Avould be most difficult to repair. 

The question of the forts was one of concealed importance 
in the minds of the Southern leaders. As long as attention 
might be diverted from them, the South could still hold 
Avithin reach the opportunity of possessing them and securing 
a powerful advantage, and might thus afford to suspend the 
question of war, and to linger some time at least in the discus- 
sion of peace measures. But the signal came at last for action. 
The alarm which ensued on the movement of Fort Sumter 
appeared to the public of that day very disproportionate ; a 
huge exaggeration of an event that might be explained on the 
commonest hypotheses ; but those who thought so did not 
understand its terrible significance to the Southern leadei-s, 
and their sudden interpretation of it as a signal that the 
Government had at last understood the importance of the 
forts, and might yet throw a chain from the Atlantic to the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 61 

Mississippi on the dreaming genius and relaxed limbs of 
Secession. "Had General Scott," said Mr. Floyd, in 1861, 
" been enabled to get all the forts in the South, in the con- 
dition he desired them to be, the Southern Confederacy would 
not now exist." 

Mr. Floyd was the first to take alarm at the news from 
Sumter. "He resigned," as a newspaper expressed it, "with a 
clap of thunder." The Southern leaders met in sudden and 
irregular conferences ; it was a holiday season of the year and 
formal deliberations had to be delayed for a day or two ; but 
Mr. Floyd in his resignation from the Cabinet had already 
suggested the measure of the opportunity and how adroitly 
the whole controversy might be turned on the single specifica- 
tion of the facts concerning Sumter. The conspirators awoke 
to a sense of their position, saw the danger on one side and 
the opportunity on the other. If they gave a Aveek's respite 
to a plot actually in course of execution, they might be hope- 
lessly lost. The season of delay and uncertainty was past. 
From the day the news from Sumter reached Washino-ton^ 
the question of disunion and Avar was practically decided ; 
one of the most extraordinary councils in the history of the 
country was determined upon ; a revolutionary body sat in 
the shadow of the Capitol at Washington ; and in a few weeks 
this strange authority had sent over the country the order 
which led to the seizure of all the forts in the South except 
two. 

The council summoned on this occasion at once assumed 
the powers of a revolutionary junta. It was composed of the 
Senators from seven Southern States: — Florida, Georgia, 
Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas and Texas. It 
met in one of the rooms of the Capitol, on the night of the 
5th January, 1861. The representation was full, two Sena- 



62 LIFE OF JKFFEPvSOX PAYIS. WITH A 

tors from each of the States named being present ; — but a body 
of fourteen Southern men, and those, too, properly aeting in 
a very limited representative eapaeity, was eertainly a small 
and extraordinary one to determine for the eountry the eon- 
eern of peace or war, and to assume the destinies of the South. 

' It was decided to " recommend " immediate Secession of their 
respective States, and the holding of a Convention at Mont 
gomery, Alabama, on the loth day of February. So much 
ot' the proceedings of this extraordinary council were pub- 
lished, and were perhaps legitimate. But it was not then 
published, and it is only fully known at this day, that thi-s 

J council assumed to themselves the political power of the 
South, and to control all political and military operations. 
They seized the telegraph, they controlled the press, they 
possessed themselves of all the avenues of information to the 
Soutli. ihey dictated the plan of seizing the forts, arsenals and 
custom-houses, and they did the whole work of revolution at 
Washington, while public attention was drawn to the mere 
incidental movements that seconded the designs of these few 
men and concealed the true seat of operations. It was even 
doubted whether such a council had ever been held in Wash- 
ington, and whether it was not a fiction of the newspapers. 
But in any case few had the least suspicion of the extent of 
their operations. It was a strange assumption of authority 
that, in the midst of the peaceful and ordinary transactions of 
public life, a body so small and so foreign to the purpose in 
hand, of a representative character at once so limited and so 
peculiar, composed of men who were every day in their ac- 
customed seats in the Senate, who were to some extent privy- 
counsellors of the Executive, and thus acting under obliga- 
tions of peculiar confidence, should have succeeded in erecting 
a revolutionary tribunal in a private committee-room, and 



SECRET HISTOUY OK TIIK rOXFKDKHACy. 03 

been able to dictate from tlicro, witlujuL (lotcclioii or iiilcrnii)- 
tion, the plan of a great rebellion. 

In the confusion and multitude of scenes vvliieh ])n;face 
wars and other f^-reat events in history the mind nalnrally 
inquires for some particular body of men, some well-ddined 
scene where the operation commences, and from which may 
bo traced dramatically the succession of events. Such bcfrin- 
nings are often (onnd in niirrow ei renin stances. In the; ])i'(;.s 
ent instance the scenes of a great war properly open in the 
small room in Washington City, where fourteen men pledged 
themselves to overthrow the existing government,' They as- / 
snmed the direction of eveiy alTaii- of tin; South, and from'^ 
the beginning it was evident that the people were to have no 
calm and deliberate voice in the matter. An executive com- 
mittee was ;i])pointed, "to cai'ry out the objects of the meet- 
ing." It consisted of three persons, and one of them was 
Jefferson Davis. That the council was not merely " advisory," 
that it represented the vigor and determination of a revolu- 
tionary purpose is proved from the fact that its programme 
was carried out with an exactness, a minute correspondence 
to every proposition that could only have proceeded from the 
force of command. Every thing was done that the council 
ordered. They did control "all political and military o])era- 
tions;" they did have forts and arsenals seized, as, one ])y 
one, the dispatches from "Washington indicated thcun ; they 
did effect a Convention at Montgomery .-irbitrarily appointed; 
and, m no instance, did the movements in tlie Sonth towards 
Secession vary from the ])rogrammo decided at Washington 
on the 5th of January. Never was a conspiracy more suc- 
cessful in all its designs and in every detail; and never could 
such a correspondciiee of events have been pr(;dnced by mere 
councillors, so limited in numbers and in rcj)resentativo 



G-i LIFE OF JEFFERSON PA VIS. WITH A 

capacity, unless there had been concealed iu the guise of " re- 
commendations " the bold and imperious j^rt< of meu who had 
resolved to rule the people rather than to counsel and then 
obey them. 

The secret Senatorial council of the oth of January can then 
only be historically known as a revolutionary body. It 
really dates the commencement of the war. To be sure after, 
this there was a prolonged larce of a debate in Congress, and 
such atYcctations as might proceed from the tactics of parties; 
but Avar was practicall}* determined when Anderson raised 
his flag at Sumter, and turned inland the frown of his guns. 

The council of the 5th of January — as further evidence of the 
extent and force of its design — did not neglect the designation 
of a leader : that, indeed, was a matter of supreme concern, 
and one not likely to be overlooked in even a preliminary 
conference. The views of the council or caucus Avere natu- 
rally imperfect ; they have never yet been correctly reported, 
or freely given to history ; but there is no doubt of the re- 
markable fact that the programme of offices tii'st designed for 
rhe new Confederacy was R. M. T. Hunter of Virginia, Presi- 
dent, with Jcfterson Davis, Secretary of War. Tliere was, to 
be sure, no distinct expression of such a choice, no vote, no 
declaration ; and yet that the affections of the Southern lead- 
ers at this time were for Hunter as President, that they hesi- 
ti\ted. and that they were afterwaixis governed by a special 
circumst^\nee do not admit of doubt. 

The reasons which determined the early choice of Mr. 
Davis as Minister of AVar in the new republic, shadowed forth 
by the eonspiratoi^ were obvious enough. He was a gradu- 
;uc ot'West Point; he professed an aptitude for ai'ms ; he had 
gained considerable distinction in the Mexican war ; and he 
had had large experience in the military comniittee of the 
Senate, and in the War Department. 



SECRCT IIISTOKY OV TIIK CONFKDERACY, 05 

Unfortunately lor Liu; prc-cininonco ol' Mr. iruntcr, as loader 
ol'tlio Secession movement, he fell into an act of imprudence, 
wliicli lowered liim in the estimation of his colleagues, and 
made him lor a lime an object of suspicion, ^l^he fact is, the 
staid and circumsi)eet Virginian was not yetadvaiuuHl enough 
in his notions; his heart was not yet in the scheme of Dis- 
union; and not a week after the caucus in which he had sat 
and assented to its deliberations, he appears to liavo taken a 
sudcKni resolution, and was eitluu' hold or rash enough to 
propose a plan of peaceful adjustment. 

This plan looked to the forts in the South — on which luul 
hinged so much of secret anxiety in the minds of the con- 
spirators. It proposed a resolution authori/jing the retrocession 
of the forts within any State, upon the a[)})lication of the 
Legislature, or of a Convention of the people of sucli State, the 
Federal authorities taking at the same time proper security for 
their safe-keeping and return, or payment for the same. Mr. 
Hunter knew the importance of the forts. He knew that on 
them trembled the heail of the controversy It might not be 
too late to recall the slcUus quo before the act of Major Ander- 
son, to restore the conlidence of the South, and for the Senator 
from Virginia, to pluck a higher honor than that to which 
he had been uncertainly apj)ointed in the revolutionary coun- 
cil of the 5th of January. He said: — "To })roduce reunion 
it is essential that the Southern States should be allowed to 
take that position, which it is obvious they arc going to take, 
in peace. You must give, too, all the time you can, and olfer 
all the opportunities you may, to those who desire to make an 
elfort for the reconstruction of this Confederacy." 

The resolution cost Mr, Hunter the position which he had 
heretofore approached, of President of the New Confederacy, 
He was retired ; he was assailed by reproaches ; and Jefi'erson 
5 



6$ LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS, WITH A 

Davis at once mounted to the unchallenged leadership of the 
Secession party, and froni that moment became the arbiter of 
the destinies of the South, The circumstances which placed 
Mr. Davis in the position were, as we have seen, to some ex- 
tent, accidental ; and it was a question often occurring in the 
course of the war and in the progress of his administration, 
what other person in the South could have been found more 
capable of directing its afiiiirs, and representing its character 
and cause. The question is a grave one, and has a supreme 
interest in history. It may be conceded at the outset, that 
Mr. Hunter was not the man to take precedence of Mr. Davis 
in a command so august, and in a care so various as that of 
the leader of a revolution. The Senator from Virginia had a 
superior intellect ; he had a keen and worldly prudence ; he 
had practical knowledge of men ; but he lacked the qualities 
of leadership, the nervous temperament, the indispensable, 
personal enthusiasm that commands men. His manners Avere 
remarkable for stolidity, lie was a heavy, impassive, studious 
statesman, rather than a brilliant partisan, or an ingenious 
conspirator. On the other hand, Mr. Davis had many of the 
elements of leadership. He had passion, brilliancy ; there was 
a natural arrogance in his manners ; his attitude in the Senate 
was authoritative, self-poised and commanding ; he was as facile 
and powerful in conversation as in debate : he had an address 
at once erect and pleasing ; with a face as imperious as that 
of Calhoun, and expressions as mobile as those of Clay, he 
appeared the impersonation of a popular leader, and wore 
easily and grandly the air of one born to command. It was 
a brilliant covering of great defects ; yet no one can question 
the brightness and beauty of those colors in which Jefterson 
Davis tirst concealed his true character, and stood in the eyes 
of the South almost as the apparition of a divinely appointed 
leader. 






SECRET HI.STUUY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 67 



CHAPTER V. 

Tlio Sectional Dobato in the United States Senate — How DilVeront from that in the House of 
Roprosontatives — tntollectuiU Poverty of tlio Doliato in Congress — Explanation of this — A 
Game of Pretences — A Class oflntormcdiato Politicians Sincerely Affected — References toCrit- 
tondon and Douglas — Andrew Johnson the Champion Par Excclhnce, of the Union — llis Ex- 
traordinary Life — Compared with Jefferson Davis — Johnson's Literary Style — What Senator 
Douglas Thouglit of Iliin — His Extraordinary Courage — Mr. Davis's Singular Criticism of 
Johnson — lloticonco of the Former in the Debate in the Senate — His Explanation of the Se- 
cession Sentiment — Sinister Conduct — Ho offers an Amendment to the Constitution — Andrew 
Johnson's Appeals for the Union — A Curious History of the Vote on tho Crittenden Rosolu- 
tiouB — Colloquy of Johnson iind Benjamin — Mr. Davis makes His Farewell Speech in the 
Senate — 'NVigfairs Picture of tlio Dead Union — Last Effort in tho Senate to Save the Peace of 
the Country — A Memorable Scone. 

The debate in Congress which preceded the war is histori- 
cal, and is a necessary part of the biography of Jefferson 
Davis. His place was in the Senate ; and it is, therefore, to 
that branch of the national legislature that we shall confine 
our notice, assembling around the subject of oar work the 
persons and circumstances necessary to explain his part in the 
drama. In the House the debate was naturally larger in 
volume and more excited than in tlie Senate; the Ibrmer was 
a body more sensitive of the public impulses and convictions, 
and its tone of debate, if more immoderate, was yet, in some 
sense, more significant. The discussions in the Senate, pre- 
facing the war, were more taine and partial than among the 
immediate representatives of the people, and yet scarcely su- 
perior, to the degree that might have been expected, in re- 
spect of deliberation or of dignity. 



/ 



68 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Indeed, this ■whole debate in Congress, Avas one of tlie most 
extraordinary in history, on one especial account, namely : — 
its lack of sincerity ; and this fact >yill, perhaps, explain its 
comparative intellectual poverty, and the Ayant, generally 
speaking, of a sublime and impassioned eloquence in a his- 
torical crisis so vast and fearful. Whatever brilliant episodes 
there were in this debate, whatever flashes of true eloquence, 
there is no doubt that, on the whole, it was below the occa- 
sion : and. lacking the element of earnestness, it fell into the 
commonplaces of at^ectation and routine. The Southern Sena- 
^rs, generally, had really no heart in the discussion ; they had 
resolved, in secret caucus, to secede, despite whatever might 
ensue of persuasions or propositions to compromise ; they 
did not really desire the pacitication of the country, although 
determined to keep up a pretence of such disposition in order 
to alVect public opinion ; and thus, while professing an attempt 
for a peaceful settlement, they secretly intrigued against the 
possibility of such a conclusion. It was a shallow affectation, 
and was managed with but little adroitness. On the other 
hand, the majority of Republican Senators were also deficient 
in sincerity. The extreme men of that party had secretly re- 
solved that there should be no compromise; and thus the 
two elements in debate were about equally engaged in a 
game of pretences, and a controversy that apj>earcd so im- 
posing in the highest council of the nation, was. in reality, 
very destitute of earnestness, almost barren of genuine emo- 
tion. 

In such a condition, the few Senators who truly and deeply 
felt the magnitude of the crisis, and were sincerely atVected in 
the debate, wore naturally those who stood n\id\yay bet\yoen 
the malcontents of the South and the extreme Eepublicans of 
the North, and who had not committed themselves to the 



SECRET HISTORY OF TIIK CONFEDKRACY. 69 

secret schemes of either. Tlic solicitude of these men was 
real. But they were few who thus stood in true patriotic 
concern between the two affectations that dulled and degraded 
a debate which was to these few a matter of life and death for 
the country. IMierc was [)rol)ably no member of the Senate 
more sincerely affected than Mr. Crittenden, of Kentucky, 
and it is said that he shed tears when his resolutions of com 
promise were voted down, mourning in the dignity of age, as 
an ancient Roman might liave done, over the fall of the re- 
public. But Mr. Crittenden lacked vigor as a debater ; his 
powers, as an orator, had never been great, and were now 
impaired by years ; and lie was not the man to assume a 
dramatic figure in a debate that required much more of the 
impassioned and aggressive than the paternal style of elo- 
quence. Mr. Douglas, of Illinois, had ability enough to stand 
between the factions, and probably sincerity enough in his 
desire for peace; but unfortunately his position as a jjacificator 
was vulnerable. He had lost whatever influence he had 
ever had in the South, and his part in the last Presidential 
election might easily be construed to accuse him as a pro- 
moter of the troubles that had befallen the nation. On one 
occasion, when he attempted to reprove Wigfall, of Texas, as 
a disunionist, the fierce and rugged Texan Senator turned 
upon him, and said : " Why, I tell the Senator that that great 
princi[)le of his (non-intervention) disrupted the Democratic 
party, and has now disrupted the Union ; and but for him 
and his great principle, this day a Democrat would have been 
President, and the Union saved. That is the fact about the 
matter; and when a Senator, wlio has contriljutod more than 
any other man in the Union, according to his ability, to the 
destruction of the country, comes here and charges me with 
complicity in dissolving the Union, and charges in terms that 



70 LIFE OF JEFFERSON* DAVIS, WITH A 

extremes meet, and that I and my friends, and the Free- 
Soilers on the other hand, are co-operating for the same pur- 
pose ; that we are voting together ; and that we take great 
comfort in all these exhibitions of the impossibility of saving 
the Union : I tell him that he is not the man to come here 
and preach to anybody !" 

In this deficiency of the Senate, this want of a fitting cham- 
pion of the Union, one whose sincerity was unquestionable, 
and whose position in politics betwen the two factions, might 
command influence with both, a single man arose as if almost 
providentially qualified to supply the occasion. This man, 
this brave knight in season, was Andrew Johnson, of Ten- 
nessee. His antecedents, his position, his character as a popu- 
lar tribune, qualified him for his peculiar and dramatic mission 
against Secession. Whatever have since been the A^aried and 
august fortunes in the life of this man, he never occupied a 
prouder position, or one of more historical sublimity than when 
he confronted thedisunionists sprung from his own section, and 
stood against this important array of numerous and brilliant 
intellects, throwing in their very faces the rude but stalwart 
defiance of the patriot. 

This remarkable man had already accomplished a life the 
most romantic in political annals, essentially A^nerican in its 
significance and interest, and replete with dramatic situations 
and surprises — a life which could only have been produced 
in the extraordinary growths of our peculiar political system, 
of which it was a most remarkable exponent. A boy of ten 
years who did not know his alphabet, apprenticed to a tailor; 
learning spelling and grammar b}' picking out words in an 
old volume of speeches by British statesmen ; wandering as a 
journeyman tailor to Eastern Tennessee ; obtaining a help- 
mate, whose wifely task was to read history and politic? to 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 71 

liim as lie plied the needle on his work-bench, the man at 
last attracted attention, pleaded the rights of the working- 
classes, was despised by the aristocracy of the little town of 
Greenville, made his way through opposition, emerged from 
difficulties, climbed steadily the ladder of public promotion, 
and at last stood a peer in the highest council of the nation. 

Scarcely have any two persons of equal rank in public life 
afforded a contrast in person and in character, so sharp and 
striking as Jefferson Davis, the leader of Secession, and 
Andrew Johnson, the especial champion of the Union. The 
former, a haughty and cultivated man, represented the tradi- 
tional aristocrat of the South, and illustrated that type of 
scholarly statesmanship supposed to be nourislied by the 
institution of Slavery, in the elegant leisure which it affords 
for literary culture and the improvement of the individual. 
He was a model of deportment in the social circle, a picture 
of graceful and well-poised dignity in the American Senate. 
He formed his speeches with classical severity and elegance ; 
he spoke eiisily in measured and well-cut sentences ; and the 
thought was always complete in his exact and well-rounded 
periods. Johnson, on the other hand, was the traditional 
democrat, a plain, earnest man ; rough, but with a face too 
deeply engraved with character to be accounted plebeian ; 
scorning the pretensions of aristocracy, and yet endowed with 
that medium and proper dignity in public life that invites 
access and yet easily sustains its official position of superiority. 
He was emphatically a man of the people, yet without the 
vulgar attributes of the demagogue. He had but few of the 
graces of the orator, and none of his virtues of language, but 
that of deep earnestness. He scorned literary flourishes, and 
valued chiefly the plain, coarse strength of argument. Once 
in the Senate he explained with more of pride than of humil- 



72 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

ity : " I Lave not the power to con over and get by rote and 
memory handsomely rounded periods, and make a great dis- 
play of rhetoric. I have to seize on fugitive thoughts as they 
pass through my mind, make the best application of them I 
can, and express them in my own crude "way." lie "was an 
»?xtempore speaker, and had the common ailliction oi' that 
class in a habit of repetition of his thoughts and of straining 
for expression, quite unlike the literary style of ^Nlr. Davis, 
Avho dropped his words perfect and rotund, one by one, 
moulding them with exquisite deliberation. As a writer, Mr. 
Johnson had considerable finish and elevation ; but in his 
speeches he exhibited but few literary ornaments ; yet in 
real intellectual force he had scarcely his equal in the Senate. 
A member of Congress, Avho sat with him in the memorable 
session of 18G0-1, has described excellently his style as a 
speaker : " His elocution was niore forcible than fine — more 
discursive than excellent ; he hammered away with stalwart 
strength upon his thought, until he brought it into shape. 
He rarely failed to produce the impression he intended." 
He suft'ered from the poverty of language, which is so often 
remarked in self-educated men ; he had the common misfor- 
tune of that class, frequent self-betrayal in historical and liter- 
ary allusions ; but his strong and courageous sense was not 
ashamed to make successive trials of expression, until at last 
it carried conviction home to the minds of his hearers. "When 
his blundering blows did hit they told like those of a giant. 
Plow etYective they were in the hot conflict of ideas in 
which he engaged Mr. Davis and his followers may be Judged 
from the lact — which has been frequently attested to the 
author — that Senator Douglas deplored to the day of his 
death that Mr. Johnson had not commenced the fight against 
Secession a little earlier, as he relied upon him and Crittenden 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACt. 73 

rciielling from a Soiitlicni stand-point tlic aggressive debate 
of the (lisunionists of the Senate, and giving the coup de grace 
to their schemes of ambition. But the opposition was — as 
Mr. Douglas might not have known — against a foregone con- 
clusion. The conspiracy had ripened before Mr. Johnson 
spoke in the Senate ; and the only effect of his anti-secession 
speeches there was to involve him in a severe personal con- 
troversy. 

. In this controversy, however, he shov/ed striking and 
memorable courage. Indeed there was one trait of the man 
which always obtained for him a certain respect from the 
Southern people, even when in the heat of the war he was 
deemed their worst enemy. It was liis high, ])crsonal courage 
— a quality which never fails of the admiration of the people 
of the South in any shape of man. The truest courage is not 
that which is constitutional; it is the fruit of the harsh expe- 
rience of life, the education of sclf-conridence, the inspiration 
which comes from tlie memories of dangers tried, misfortunes 
conquered, and obstacles overcome. The remarkable cour- 
age of Andrew Johnson, now conceded by the world, was the 
product of a harsh, aggressive life, at war with fortune from 
infancy, and animated with the recollections of triumph. It 
was no ordinary spirit that could meet the Southern Senators 
who by concert set upon him for his op[)osition, to their 
schemes of Secession, made him an especial mark for their 
hostility, and hunted him with every weapon admitted in 
parliamentary strife. He answered them with defiance. 
Once driven almost to extremity by their threats and taunts, 
he turned upon them a I'ace not to be forgotten, and said: 
"There are men who talk about cowardice, cowards, courage, 
and all tliat kind of thing; and in this connection I will say, 
once lor all, not boastingly, with no anger in my bosom, that 



"74 LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS, WITH A 

tliese two eyes never looked upon any being, in the shape of 
mortal man, that this heart of mine feared!" 

In some reeent recolleetions of his old antagonist in the 
Senate, Mr. Davis is reported to have said : 

" The position of i\Ir. Johnson with his associates of the 
South had never been pleasant, not from any fault or super- 
eiliousness on their side, but solely due to the intense, almost 
morbidly sensitive, pride of "Sir. Johnson. Sitting with 
associates, many of whom he knew pretended to aristocracy, 
Mr. Johnson seemed to set up before his own mind, and keep 
ever present with him. his democratic or plebeian origin as a 
bar to warm social relations.'' 

But Mr. Davis has probably misinterpreted the separation 
of Johnson from those who " pretended to aristocracy," as a 
paltry matter of personal pride. It was the constitutional 
genius of the true democrat that thus divided hiui from 
associates like Mr. Davis. The key-note to the politics of the 
former was the rights of the working-class, the virtue of the 
popular masses ; and, perhaps, no public man of equal station 
in America had so hated and defied the filse and insolent 
aristocracy, which would have strangled his early aspirations, 
and, indeed, had hunted him to the summit of his career. 

'•' What do you mean by ' the laboring-classes ?' " was asked 
of Andrew Johnson, tailor and statesman, standing upon the 
floor of the United States Senate. 

'• I mean," replied Johnson, '' those who earn their bread 
by the sweat of their hice. and not by fatiguing their ingenuity." 
At another time : '' Sir. I do not forget that I am a mechanic. 
I am proud to own it.'' 

Such were the two men who met in the Senate of the 
United States at the threshold of the war, and who, more 
than any two other men of their day, were representatives of 



SECRET HISTORY OF TJIK CONFEDERACY, 75 

tlic ideas that struggled there for domination. 'V]u',y iK;v(!r 
met immediately in (lel)ate. Johnson did not make his most 
powerful and elaborate speech for the Union until Jcfl'erson 
Davis had taken farewell of the Senate. As for Mr. Davis, 
lie was sin,i(iilarly si)aring of s[)e(;eh in tlie (IcIkiLc; tliat pre- 
ceded the war ; he spoke but little in the questions before the 
Senate, and that only incidentally. His remarkable reticence 
may, perhaps, be explained from a sentiment of delicacy on 
account of his selection as president of IIk; n(!W (J()nf(;d(jracy, 
which his Southern associates had already determined, and, 
therefore, his immediate profit in Secession; or more probably 
it may bo ascribed to the supposition that ho was really 
ashamed to phiy the ])art of a hy[)o(;rite, making fulsome 
rhetorical endeavors for pacification, well knowing tliat an 
opposite conclusion had been determined in secret caucus, 
and that ho had accepted, if not already the ])osition of leader 
of a rel)(;lli<)ii, the ph'iee of one of the committet! to caiTy out 
the design of disunion. VVliatever the explanation, he did 
not make his accustomed iigui'c in debate, and he assumed an 
appearance of singular impassiveness, •whatever might have 
been tin; hopes and fcai's that swayed his brcsast, or the 
ambition that consumed him. 

Before the Senatorial caiieus, in the first weelc of January, 
and when the coercion of South Carolina was debated, Mr. 
Davis had s[)oken more freely, and in a very uiuHpii vocal 
style, lieferring to the common threat to reclaim a sovereign 
State by force, ho had declared: "I would have this Union 
severed into thirty-three fragments sooner than have that 
gi'cat evil bciUll constitutional lib(;rty, and re])ubli(;an govern- 
ment." He freely asserted tliat the South had hnig meditated 
Secession, endorsing in effect those confessions to which we 
have already referred in the South Carolina Convention, that 



7G LIFK OF JKFFKRSON" IVWIS. -WITIT A 

the sooo^siou o[' that State ^v;ls the aspiration of vears, ami 
not a sn^ldeu indisposition to l<\\leval inUe. lie said : — " We 
have warned you lor years that you would drive us to the 
alternative o[' g'oing out of the uovernuieut, and vou would 
not heed. 1 believe you still look upoi\ it as a mere passing 
politieal move, as a desire to seeure party ends, knowing little 
of the deep struggle with whieh we have eouteniplated this 
as a necessity, not as a ehoiee, when we have brought to 
stand before the alternative — the destruetion of our eoni- 
niunity independenee, or the destruetion of that Ihiion whieh 
our lathers made. * * ^"^ You have believed — not looking to 
the great end tv> whieh our aims are direeted — that it was a 
ntere politieal resort, by whieh we would intimidate some of 
your own voters." 

Hut in later stages o[' the debate, when the Southern Sena- 
tors had aetually deterndned on the programme of Seeession, 
Mr. Pavis's IVeedom of speech was suddenly cheeked, and he 
subsided into an almost sinister silence, lie secretly knew 
that the period for argument was passed, and any pretence 
he made thereafter oi' it was very slight and brief. In his 
brief speech of the 8th of January, IStVl, comnu>nting merely 
on events, and vindicating the seizure of the Southern forts, 
he had said :— " Abstract argument had become among the 
things that are }^ast.'' 

Had the eiVort for pacilication been sincere on the part c>f 
the SiHithern Senators, M\\ Davis of all men considering the 
position he had been assigned of chief representative, should 
have come forward in the debate, and should have framed 
the demands of the South, lie was the man, oi' all others to 
do this, if the controver.sy had been real. Again and again it 
was asked by the Kepubliean leaders in the Senate, Avho 
atVccted to depreciate the crisis, and to twit the anxiety of 



SKCIIKT IFIS'l'OltV (;K TilK (JO.N'KKDK KA(J V. 77 

others, tli;it, tin; SfJilt-Ii hIioiiM exhibit, h(;r hill <;(' ^ficVUIlCCS 
and make adislJiiet ullimalinii. " What, (\t) you vvurit ?" .said 
Mr. Wade, of Ohio. " Many ol' tlio.se who supposed thernselveH 
aggrieved hav<! spok*;!) ; hut I confess that, I am totally iiiiahio 
to iiiid(:rsl,;iiid pi'(;i;i:s(;ly what it is of whieh they eompliiiii." 
Mr. i>avis answered, with bri(;f doelamation. "Alter Jbrty years 
oCdeijate," he said, " y(ju have asked iis what was the matt(;r." 
]>iit it vv.'is )i(!e(;ssary that iJm; reeoi'd should he inade up for 
iiistory, ;uid. to save !i.[)peii,r;uiees, Mr. i>avis eould nearecdy do 
less than fr'anie some me-asurc; whieh shoidd indicate the 
wrongs of the South and ex[)ress her demands. 

A few days belbre his i'(;tii-(;ment IV(jtn the Senate, Mr. 
Davis moved the following resolution: — 

"'JMiat itsliall be dtjclarcd by atrn'.ndnicnt to tlic (Joiistitution, iJiat 
])ro|)(-rty in slavfis, recognized ii.s such l)y the local law of any of the 
St^atis of llie Union, shall sl-and on llie sanif; fooling in all constitu- 
tional and l-'ederal relations as any othtjr Hpecies of pn>j)erty ho rc- 
eo;^niz(!(l ; and, like other i)ro)u;i'ty, shall not be siil)ject to be dive«t(!cl 
or impaired l»y the; local law of any otlujr State, either in escape 
thereto, or ol' transit or sojonrn of the owner therein ; and in no case / 
whatever shall such |)roperty be subject to bo divested or impaired by / 
any le^^islative act of the United States, or oi' any teri'itory thereof." 

This proposition was never considered, discussed, or taken 
from the table. It was undoubtedly intended for appearances, 
and Mr, Davis had .secretly determined to take no active part 
in any selKMiie of [pacification. Indeed he had given evi<l(;neo 
enough of his dispcjsition of inactivity. When at an eai'ly 
period of the session Ik; had b(;en appointed one of the Committee 
of Thirteen to re[)ort a plan of settlement, he had asked to 
be excused, and had cxjdained: — " ^JMie position which I am 
known to occupy, and the [)osition in which the State I 
represent now stands, render it altogether impossible for me 
to serve upon that committee with any pro.spect of advantage." 



78 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Meanwhile Andrew Johnson, although not 3'et fully aroused 
to the danger of the country, and not yet knowing the extent 
and arrogance of the conspiracy against the Union had fully 
defined his position. As early as the 18th of December, 1860, 
although recognizing the just fears of the South in the elec- 
tion of Abraham Lincoln, and resenting the reluctance of the 
Republican party to offer new guaranties suggested by that 
event, he had given an advice to his Southern associates that 
possiblv might have averted the war, when in manful and 
noble phrase he exhorted them to "fight for their Constitutional 
rights on the battlements of the Constitution." He entreated 
Mr. Davis and other Southern Senators to remain in their 
places, assuring- them that if they thus remained firm and un- 
shaken, Mr. Lincoln could not even organize his administra- 
tion unless by their permission ; and much loss could he or 
his party do any direct injury to the Southern interests. 
With prophetic vision, he told them that Secession would be 
the death of Slavery, that in the blast of a sectional conflict it 
would be swept away with the swoi'd of destruction. He 
gave his opinions clearly and impressively ; he thought the 
tones of exhortation those best to be used before the move- 
ment of disunion had advanced very lar ; and raising his 
hands to heaven, he uttered that invocation which has since 
appeared to have been the inspiration of his life, and which 
deserves to be inscribed in golden letters beneath his place 
in history : — " Duties are mine ; consequences are God's." 

It was a remarkable speech. There was no finer burst of 
eloquence heard in the Senate Chamber, no loftier picture of 
the Union than what occurred in a passage of this speech, 
when Mr. Johnson aptly drew a figure from the scenery of 
his own home in Tennessee. "Who dare ajipropriate," he 
said, '' to the exclusion of any part of the country the capital 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 79 

founded by Washington, und bearing his immortal name? 
It is within the borders of the States I have enumerated, in 
whose limits are found the graves of Washington, of Jackson, 
of Polk, of Clay. From them is it supposed we will be torn 
away ? No sir; we will clierish these endearing associations 
with the hope, if this liepublic shall be broken, that we may 
speak words of peace and reconciliation to a distracted, a 
divided, I may add a maddened people. Angry waves may 
be lashed into fury on the one hand; on the other blustering 
winds may rage ; but we stand immovable upon our basis, as 
on our own native mountains — presenting their craggy brows, 
their unexplored caverns, their summits, ' rocked-ribbed and 
ancient as the sun' — we stand speaking peace, association and 
concert to a distracted Eepublic." 

It would be useless and tedious to give the mere legislativ^c 
form of a debate, which resulted in no measures, and to give 
seriatim the various and technical propositions on which it 
proceeded. The most of these propositions were, as we have 
insisted, mere affectations and shams. We have designed 
rather to produce the true spirit of the debate, and to confront 
in it the two most important characters — Jefferson Davis and 
Andrew Johnson. The Crittenden Eesolutions — really the 
only seprate proposition of peace — may be taken as the only 
important text of the debate, and the originator of this 
measure was not conspicuous in discussing it. 

These resolutions which lingered for many weeks in the 
Senate, and on which a vote was ominously avoided, came up 
at last for decisive action on the 16th of January, 1801. They 
were to the effect of re-affirming Slavery as against the 
authority of Congress or a Territorial Legislature south of 
the Missouri line of compromise ; denying the power of Con- 
gress over Slavery in the District of Columbia, and in the 



80 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

forts, arsenals, dock-yards, or wherever else the Federal 
Government had exclusive jurisdiction; and strengthening 
the Fugitive Slave Law by additional enactments. The 
antithesis of the plan of settlement was resolutions offered by 
Mr. Clark of New Hampshire. These resolutions declared 
that the provisions of the Constitution were already ample 
enough for any emergencies ; that it was to be obeyed rather 
than amended ; and that an extrication from present dangers 
was to be looked for in strenuous efforts to preserve the 
peace, protect the public property, and enforce the laws, 
rather than in new guaranties for peculiar interests, com- 
promises for particular difficulties, or concessions to unrea- 
sonable demands. 

It has been said that Mr. Davis was in favor of the Critten- 
den Eesolutions, and would have accepted them as a settle- 
ment of the grievances of the South, and that other Southern 
Senators were similarly disposed. In a speech of Mr. Breckin- 
ridge of Kentucky in the Senate, 16th of July, 1861, he said: 
"I happened personally to know the fact myself that the 
leading statesmen of the lower Southern States were willing 
to accept the terms of settlement which were proposed by the 
venerable Senator from Kentuck}-, my predecessor." But in 
face of the facts it is impossible to accept this explanation, or 
to consider it as other than a dishonest afterthought of the 
Southern leaders, an attempt to forge in the record a histori- 
cal vindication of themselves. The Crittenden Eesolutions 
came to a vote on the 16th of January, 1861. There were 
fifty-five Senators at that time upon the floor. The vote to 
supplant these resolutions by the proposition of Mr. Clark 
was yeas, 25 ; nays, 23. Six Southern Senators, Mr. Benjamin, 
of Louisiana; Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Wigfall, of Texas; Mr. 
Iverson, of Georgia; Mr. Johnson, of Arkansas, and Mr. Slidell, 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 81 

of Louisiana, were in ilieir seats, but refused to cast their votes. 
Mr. Davis was detained in his room by a convenient siclvuess. 
But, as the records show, there were Southern Senators enough 
to have carried tlic resolutions and to have subnfiitted the 
subject, as designed, to the people, "who," as Andrew 
Joluison, in his characteristic "faith, remarlced, "liave never 
yet, after consideration, refused justice, for any length of 
time, to any portion of the country." 

Mr. Johnson saw the balance suspended between peace and 
war. Watchful, brave, alert, he made the effort v/hich 
patriotism suggested even at the expense of personal feeling. 
Althougli he had been rebulfed Ijy the Secession leaders, who 
had haughtily and insolently surveyed him whenever he rose 
to speak, although he could not expect the comrtToncst civili- 
ties from them, he was not the man to shrink f<^om public 
duty, either from timidity or personal delicacy. When the 
vote was being taken on the Crittenden Resolutions, he 
moved near to Mr. Benjamin, of Louisiana, and said, with 
earnestness: "Let us save this proposition and see if we can- 
not bring the country to it. Mr. Benjamin, vote, and show 
yourself an honest man." He got only a scornful answer. 
The Crittenden Resolutions were lost ; telegrams flew to all 
parts of the South that all hopes of compromise were gone ; 
and Mr. Johnson, crossing the floor of the Senate to where 
Mr. Crittenden sat, wounded, pale, in the very agony of dis- 
appointment, has since remarked : — " Well do I remember the 
sadness, the gloom, the anguish that played over his venera- 
ble face." 

True, the passage of the Crittenden Resolutions in the Sen- 
ate might not have been decisive of the question of peace or 
war. Indeed, all the plans of compromise suggested might 
have been, as Mr. Hale, of New Hampshire, expressed it, "the 



82 LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

mere daubing of the \Yall with uutempered mortar.'' !6at 
partial and tentative as these resolutions were, thej were yet 
to the Senate, to the extent of their eft'ect, the question of 
peace and war, and thus a sulHcient test of the dispositions 
of its members. The main elibrt of the Union men — as of 
Andrew Johnson, of Tennessee — was to get a distinct pro- 
position of peace before the people trusting to their sense of 
justice and committing the responsibility to them ; and thus 
the motion on tlie Crittenden proposition, Avhatever might be 
its ultimate results, was, as far as the action of the Senate 
could command, the complete and distinct issue of union or 
disunion. 

The farewell speech of Mr. Da\-is in the Senate was memo- 
rable. The State of Mississippi seceded from the Union on 
the 9th of January, 1S61, but her Senators lingered at Wash- 
ington until the 21st before they withdrew. At that time the 
debate in Congress on the sectional question had, as we have 
seen, very much degenerated, and was, on both sides, an 
aft'ectation. It had now really become an idle ceremony, a 
waste of words, and no one knew it better than Mr. Davis. 
Senator Hale, of New Ilampshire, one of the most candid 
members of the Eopublican party of that day, has since testi- 
fied, that on the 18th of December, 1800 — the day the Crit- 
tenden Compromise was introduced — it was determined the 
controversy should not be settled in Congress. The season of 
debate, Avhen Mr. Davis bade farewell to the Senate and an- 
nounced another public career, had justly passed. The tem- 
per of the opposing party was well expressed in the savage 
witticism of one of its most truculent members. Owen Love- 
joy was asked what he thought of Senator Seward's speech, 
noted somewhat for its conciliatory tone. " AVe want," said 
Lovejoy, " no ^[elancthons now ; we want Martin Luthers. 



SECKKT HISTORY OF THE CONFKDKKAOV. 83 

We want no one to write ossa3\s upon tlio Union and {\\c. sin 
and disasters of Secession, Ijut sonic one to throw the inkstiind 
riii'lit at the devil's head !" 

In these circiunstancos oC nsoloss ;ind alVected speech in 
Congress — knowing well that debate tliere h;id liei-.onie a 
mere ceremony, and, what is worse, a deception ol' the pnblie 
— Mr. Davis took leave of the councils of Washington in a 
speech of remarkable brevity. This explanation jierhaps ac- 
connts for the comparative abstinence of this address li'om 
argument and historical illustration, and ils lit(.>i'ary barren- 
ness in a great conjuncture, which it might be thought would 
have been adorned with the highest elYorts of eloqucncr. 
There is a brief historical vindication of the Sontli in this 
speech, an argument limited to the fewest words, and then a 
fit and dignified inspiration in an appeal to Providence, "in- 
voking the God of our fathers who delivered them iVom the 
power of the lion, to protect us (i'om the ravages of the bear.'' 
But the language was very line, the spirit ol' the address 
dignified; and those who witnessed its delivery by Mr. Davis, 
will recollect how the Senate hung on the slow and unim]-»af 
sioned words, and how tears even were shed when \\c walked 
forth from the chamber, "released from obligati(jn, diseneum- 
bered of the memory of any injuiy he had received," pre- 
pared for a new career, the most im[)ortant and dramatic of 
modern times. In the close of his speech he showed an nn- 
bounded personal generosity, begged pardon ol'all whom he 
had ever offended, and directing his attention to the ilepubli- 
ean Senators, declared that he carried away no hostile 
feelings, and sincerely apoh)gi/.ed for whatever of pei'sonal 
displeasure had ever been occasioned in debate. It is re- 
markable that after such a noble tender of personal reconcilia- 
tion, only two liepublican Senators approached him and 



8-1: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITIT A 

shook Ills liaiul nt parting. They Avevo Alessrs. Ilale and 
Cameron. 

When Mr. Davis took leave of the Senate, he h^ft there bnt 
little to record of controversy or debate. A few Southern 
Senators, wliose States had not yet seceded, still lingered in 
their seats, but only to insult Avhat they supposed to be tlie 
last hours of the Union. It was already dead, said Senator 
Wigtall of Texas. The object of so many hopes, the Union 
that had emerged from the mist and blood of the Revolution, 
the traditional love ol' the American people, was, as the Texan 
Senator expressed it. only a eori"»se lying in state; and the 
whole c:overnment at Washinu'tou drawini;' around it a few 
tawdry ceremonies,. and holding feebly the glorious memories 
of the past, was but nursing a distempered fancy in the cold 
sweat of death. The ghastly ligure was not without signiii- 
canee. It appeared, indeed, as if the Government had lost all 
vitality and resolution ; it had, indeed, sunk to a most abject 
and pitiful condition ; and the Secession leaders might well 
brandish their contempt in the face of an authority that they 
had already openly detied, and that they had left, as they 
imagined, on the confines of dissolution. 

''What is the condition?'' said Mr. Polk, of Missouri. 
" Universal panic, prostration of credit, public and private. 
Our government has just advertised for a loan of five millions. 
and she could only get half of it bid for, nor even that except 
at usurious rates of interest, running up to the extreme of 
thirty per cent, jier annum !" 

It is notable that a government threatened by one of the 
Hercest revolutions of modern times, had yet made not the 
least provision for war. Not only was the debate we have 
described entirely fruitless, but it is remarkable that the Con- 
gress — of one branch oi' which we have treated hero — had ab- 



.skci;k'I' iiis'i'oiM' (»!'' 'I'll I-; ('()M'iu)h:uA(n'. 85 

solul.tily iiol, ));is,S(!<l ;i siii;j,'I(i .'icl, [m iiici'cii.si; or sLi'iMHillicii iJio 
military power of llio _i.!;ovoi"iiiii(!iiL. Tlic. Iiills Ikiviii"; LIkiIj 
(jhjc.cl, ill viiuv known ;i,s " I'orcti hills" li;ul nil liccn <!(•- 
fotitoil. Tilt' ;i,|i]iro| iri;i,hoiis which were niiulc; wei'ooiily or- 
(lin.'iry ones. 'I'he Lroiihlcs ol' l,li(i eoiinl.ry I'eci'i vi'il no solii- 
j.ioii ;iUlie hruuls ol' (Joii;;;ress, iioL even ;i lcni|ior;i,ry :i,rr;ui;4'(i- 
ineiil,, nol, iJie sli;,'jil.esl, or reiiioLesl. provision. 1 1, \v;is ;i, Hill- 
giiliir hhiJik, iiidieiilJiiu; l,h:iJ, we;i,k iind ■•ilinosl, (luinh c.xi Kichi- 
lioii, in whie.li (,lii- piihllc, niiml ol' iJk- Norlli lor ;i. Ion;'; iJino 
hllli;.;' V;iglU;ly on iJie issues of l,lie iinjienilili;.'; eolillicl,. 

Olio IuhI; (ilVorl, in I.Ik; Sen;il,e (o s;i,V(! the, |ic;ie,(; of I.Ik! eoiin- 
Iry i'(!iii;iiiis lo he ineiil-ioiK^I, .-iikI lilly (;oiie,hi(les Ihe eh;ijil,er. 
'rhroLigli l.lie e;irnesl, einleMA'ors ol' the I'rie.nds (»!' \1 r. (Critten- 
den, his proposition, onei! dere;i.te(|, w;is ln,keii up lor rucoii- 
sider;itioii, ;dl,liou'di Mr. I*n;';li, of ()hio, li;id, when the voto 
was lirsl, ;Milioiilieed, moved to l;i,v the wlioli; sniiji'et oil tin) 
l;ihle, ;i.s in ilesp;i/ir of reeoiieili;iiion. I*"iii;dly, on motion ol' 
Mr. (.'ameroii, of i'ennsy I va,ni:i,, a, motion lo reconsider waa 
carricid. On the .'Id d:ry oI'Miireh, it was aniioiiiK'efj tli;ii tli(3 
voto would be, (iindly l;i,keii. It W!i,s tin; last d;i.y ol' the sc- 
Kioii ; tho nox.1 snu would l)riii;j;' in a, new Adiiiini.-tr;itioii, 
aiul might dusli I'urovor tho hoi)(!s ol' those who had so lon^' 
Htnigglcd to prosorvo tlio peae(5 ol' tho oonntry. It was a 
oritiea,! day. A. vast t',rovvd pressed into and ;iroiiiid tip; 
Suuuto (Jhiuuhor; with diflienlLy l\ni o I'll eers drove them froiii 
tlio floor ; thoy siiri!;ed in the ;^all(!ries ; there, was groat ooii- 
fiisioii th(;r(!, hut soiiKithing was p;i,rdoiied to tho aiixi(!ties ol:' 
llio hour; many stood in sp;ioes soared y a,ri'ordin<.'; hre.-ith, 
until night dosooiuhsd on tlio debate;. 'rh(;y W(;ro there to wit- 
iioss till! tragedy of a iia,l,ioii's (;xtremity. A r(;w hours iiioro 
and tlio onrtaiu might fall on all that there; li;i,d b(;i;ii (jC tho 
glory and ])ros[)orit_y ol' a groat ooiinlry. The ruliire; was nil- 



so LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX PAVIS. WITH A 

certain, alarming, hidden. Mr. Crittenden spoke in subdned 
tones; the galleries soareely heard him; even the finest rheto- 
rie would have been lost on the exhausted emotions of men 
Avho had con)e to hear simply " ves" or '' no " to the hopes and 
tears that had agitated them for months. It was near mid- 
night when the vote was taken ; 19 to 20 ; the Crittenden 
l^esolutions linally lost by one vote ! Its announeement was 
made without in\pressiveuess. BeAvildered, strieken. speaking 
only in low murmurs, the vast crowd wandered out into the 
night, and separated to mei^t again in front of the bayonets 
that olittored the next noon before the new President of the 

O 

United States, as, in the presence of the people, and in the 
sight of heaven, he swore to support the Constitution and as- 
sumed an office that was to be disfigured by four years of 
war. 



SEOUKT IlISroitY OF TIIK CONFKDKllAC V. 87 



ClIAFI^KIl VI. 

Organization of Iho Confoilorato (Jovuriiinont;, lit MoiilKmnoiy — MlBHlHslpiii I'ropoHoH a HoullKirn 
Odiifoiloiiioy — Singular InHtanco of KoljoUioii UiiclmllcMiKiiil — ICxiilaiiatloii of llio JlriiiirtHiioHr) 
of till! North — I'lio Krror of Mr. Liiicolii — HoooHKioii iiH a i'opnlar 8entlinont, and SooohhIoh iih 
(in Oi«aiil/.«(l li'iict — li'ailuro of Iho Nortti to I)iMlin(;iiiHli botwoon tlio Two — Uapid Action of 
tlio Montgoniory aovoninioiit — IiitoroHliiiK lllHtoriciil I'roliloni iih to tlio JCxtent of llio Idi^a 
of " UoconHtrudtloii" ill llio Soutliorn Mind— Mr. DavlH had no nuoli Idea — Why not— Ills 
Doflant SpoeclioH at MontKoinory— Kvidoncc of a I'opnlar Sdiitiinont in tlio South for 
" llncoiiHtructioii" — Wliy it was* IiioH'cctuiii — Kxtiaordinary and rciiiarkaldo JOxciiiHion of 
tho Popular Kliiincnt fimii tlio Soutlicrii Confederacy — A UHiiipatidii AIiiiomI UiijiHiiillik-d in 
JIlMtory. 

WiriON Mr. liliicolii delivered Lis iiiau^urul .specjeli (Voin 
the portico of the Wu.shington Capitol, he stood no low^i'.y in 
front only of a ho.stilo and disorderly popular senlinient in 
tlio South, but in front of a government orga,ni/ed there, an 
actual stru(;turo of state discharging all political functions, 
furnished lor war, and inspired for a des[)C7'ate cru;ounter. 
It was a singuhir and iin])Osing s[)cctaele — a goveriinient of 
insurgents quietly assuming power and organization without 
a struggle, and continuing ihv tlie space of months unclial- 
longed and uninterrupted in its operations. Jt had come 
quietly into existence in the month of February. Tlie secret 
r(;volutionary junta had propo.scd a convention of the seceding 
S ;ites on the 15l,]i oi' tliis niontli. It assembled some days 
earlier. Mis.sissippi — the State of Jeiferson J)avis — was tho 
first to propose distinctly the idea of a Southern Confederacy, 
while in the other States the call for a convention was vari- 
ously interpreted and comniunicated from ihe ambush oi" 



SS LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

equivocal langUv'ige. There could be no doubt of tlie inten- 
tion of Mississippi. In the Legislature of that State, on the 
19th of January, a committee reported resolutions to provide 
for a Southern Confederacy, and establish a Provisional 
Government. The State had already seceded — on the 9th 
of January. On the 11th of the same mouth, Alabama and 
Florida tollowed ; on the 2l)th. Louisiana; and on the 1st of 
February. Texas. On the -Ith of February, delegates from 
these States met at Montgomery, Alabama, organized a 
Provisional Government, framed a "permanent" Coustitntion; 
and on the ISth Jefterson Davis was inaugurated President 
of •• the Ooufevlerate States of North America." 

The L^nion at Montgomery represented six Southern 
States, Trom Avhich had disappeared, in the strangest manner, 
not only every semblance of Federal authority, but almost 
every vestige of Federal power. All tlie Federal forts in 
these States but two (Sumter and Pickens) had been taken ; 
all the property of the United States, whether arsenals, 
custom-house or light-houses, had been appropriated; and not 
a vestige of authority of the Government at Washington 
was sutYered to remain, excepting the Post-office department, 
which the insurgents might have been considered to have 
arrogantl}- kept for their convenience. These amazing re- 
sults which had swept a government from the face of so large 
a territory, had been accomplished with supreme ease. All 
had been done without a drop of blood having been shed, or 
even an arm persistently raised to oppose the progress of the 
rebellion. It had gone on without any counteraction on the 
part of the Xorth, and even without any preparation of the 
Washington Government, in the shape of any act or appro- 
priation by Congress, to overthrow or check the movement. 

This remissness of the ixovernment vet claiming to be 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 89 

sii}")re!iio, its uttor lack of preparation — an instance of stark 
improvidence almost without parallel in history — was last 
bringing it into contempt; and it was, perhaps, the first 
occasion of that fatal tendency in the South to undervalue 
the power and spirit of the North in case of war. The 
explanation commonly formed of this remissness is that the 
North was not seriously apprehensive of war, and that it 
looked for Secession to disappear at last through peaceful 
agencies, or in the natural course of events. Mr. Lincoln did 
not expect war. lie believed, as he declared on his way to 
Washington, that "behind tlie cloud the sun Avas shining 
still ;" that the lln-vid sentiment of Union in the hearts of the 
people of the South would dispel all serious trouble. 

There might have been a time when this belief in the 
natural dispersion of Secession could have been reasonably 
entertained; but it is strange that Mr. Lincoln and thoughtful 
men in the North did not distinguish between this time 
and that in which he spoke — that they failed to estimate the 
great difference between Secession as a dilYuse popular 
sentiment, and Secession as an organized fact. When it was 
in the first condition, there was some hope that it might be 
overcome or scattered by peaceful means; but from the moment 
it became organized ; from the moment a government was 
framed at Montgomery, it accpiired that certain force which 
comes from organization ; and how, thereafter, the North — 
and even reflecting men there — could have continued in the 
same calculations of peace, is not easy to be explained. The 
diltbrence of the two conditions seems never to have been 
estimated. People generally, in the North, thought peace 
quite as probable after the Montgomery Convention as before 
it — that is, without regard to other events, considering that 
which had taken place at Montgomery as indillerent. And 



90 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

3'et it was that evcut which should have detornnned for tlie 
North whether to treat Secession as a subject for peaceful 
dispersion, or one for violent destruction. An idea or even a 
purpose may be easily banished from the public mind ; but 
when it once assumes organization, there is an actual power 
to be disbanded, while new interests too are brought into the 
conflict. Secession might possibly have died out in the 
South as any other public opinion; but when it took the 
form of a government at Montgomery, it passed that boundary 
whence it was not likely to be reclaimed but by violence. 
That government could not go down without carrying with it 
the hopes and aspirations of the Southern leaders, without 
consigning them to public shame; and although JelYersou 
Davis and his associates might have quitted Secession 
when it was a mere idea, and survived the sacrifice, it was 
obvious that they covdd not retract what they had done at 
Montgomery without consigning themselves to ruin. 

But the distinction between Secession as an idea and as an 
organized fact was scarcely perceived by the North. The 
Government at Washington continued to lose time which 
that at Montgomery was persistent to improve. In ibur 
days the latter adopted a provisional Constitution, and im- 
mediate! v thereafter announced as its choice for President, 
JelTerson Davis, of Mississippi, lie travelled rapidly from 
his home; he was inaugurated the day after his arrival at 
Montgomer}-, the 10th of Februar}'- ; and on the 2Sth of this 
month he was empowered by act of Congress to assume con- 
trol o^ all the military operations of the Confederate States. 
He was thus swiftly advanced to the summit of authority; 
he was seated in apparent security at Montgomery, before 
Mr. Lincoln had been inaugurated at Washington ; and two 
days after the latter had gone through this doubtful eeremonv 



SKCIiliT IllS'l'Oliy OF TFIK CONFEDERACY. 91 

nnd was yet trembling for bis personal safety, Jefferson Davis 
experienced tbe sense of power in dictating a call for one 
liundred tbousand men to take tbe Held under bis unquestioned 
anil supreme command. 

The question bas often been seriously asked wbetber tlie 
leaders and agents of tbe Soutli at Montgomery did not really 
entertain some prospect of going back into tbe Union, and 
to what extent tbe problem of reunion or "reconstruction" 
was mixed witb tbeir plans. Tbe answers givciu to this 
question bave been as various as tbe stand-points I'rom which 
they bave been delivered. To treat tbe matter witb historical 
accuracy, it is necessary to observe a distinction of whii'li we 
bave already availed ourselves in tbe progress of our woi'k — 
that between tbe people and tbe politicians of tbe Soutb ; and 
yet further to distinguish between tbe time when tbe latter 
were acting in disguise or playing an insincere part, and that 
wbcn tbey no longer thought it necessary to wear tbe mask 
and found occasion to publisb freely tbeir opinions. 

In tbe Senate of tbe United States, Jefferson Davis bad 
practised either equivocation or reserve on tbe question of re- 
union, lie was })art of a conspiracy there ; and altbougb that 
cons[)iracy hesitated to alarm tbe people of the Soutb witb the 
idea of irrevocable separation, there is abundant evidence that 
tbis conclusion was first and lii'in in tbeir designs. Mr, Davis 
knew very well that Mr, Hunter, of Virginia, bad lost bis 
place in tbe conspiracy, and hazarded its confidence by a 
proposition looking to " reconstruction " after tbe Southern 
States bad disbanded from the Union. He was not in danger 
of falling into tbe same error — one so disastrous to bis ambi- 
tion. Indeed, as we have already suggested, the fact of the 
personal ambition oCtbe Icadei's of tbe South being so identified 
witb the scheme of Secession, foj'bids tbe su[)position that tbey 



92 LIFE OR JEFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

could ever have had au}' serious thought of undoing their 
work at Montgomerv, and returning into a Union ^vhere 
thenceforth they would have to take degraded seats, and endure 
much more than the obloquj'- of the old Hartford Convention. 

On arriving at Montgomery, A[r. Davis broke the restraints 
he had worn at Washington. He threw his former prudence 
to the winds, and declared for separation from the jS^orth as 
eternal as human force could make it. He spoke with a 
burst of temper that suggested how much he had suftered 
from his continence in the Senate. In a speech to a crowd in 
the streets, he declared that ''the South would make those 
who opposed her smell Southern powder and feel Southern 
steel ;" but perhaps there was some soreness of the reporter in 
this language. Yet there was no doubt of his more deliberate 
words. He said : " The time for compromise has now passed, 
and the South is determined to maintain her position. We 
will maintain our rights and government at all hazards. We 
ask nothing, we want nothing; we will have no complications. 
If the other States join our Confederation they can freely come 
in on our terms. Our separation from the old Union is now 
complete. No compromise, no reconstruction is now to be 
entertained." Again, speaking from the balcony of his hotel : 
'*If war should come, if we must again baptize in blood the 
principles for wliich our fathers bled in the Eevolution, Ave 
shall show that we are not degenerate sons." 

Such language is sufficient to disprove a theory or hypo- 
thesis which has obtained some color of history : — namely 
that Mr. Davis and his associates at Montgomerj- had in 
reserve some thought of peaceful reconstruction, but that they 
were driven from it into the gulf of the Avar by the further 
acts of the Federal GoA'-ernment. Tliere can be no trudi in 
such a theory. The Southern leaders had resolved from the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 93 

fii-st on final separation, even with the added consequence of 
war; they had used any other pretence simply as a step])ing- 
stone to power; and from the moment they met at Mont- 
gomery tliey were prepared to put the lieel on every hope 
of reconciliation. 

It was different with tlic people of the South. The evidence 
is as aljundant as that we have just quoted to show that the 
politicians at Montgomery were resolved on irrevocable 
separation, to establish that the people of the South on the 
contrary — indeed up to the moment of actual bloodshed — 
cherished the design of reconstruction, cither hoping for a 
return to the old Union, or inclusion in anotiier of tlie same 
dimensions. The Montgomery Convention did not represent 
them ; it represented the States, and only the States so far as 
the Secession Conventions had assumed the political control 
of each. It is a significant fact that even the call for the 
Montgomery Convention had been made on an equivocation, 
as if in distrust of the temper of the people for separation 
and war. When Mississippi, after South Carolina, seceded, 
Governor Pickens of the latter State had telegraplicd tliat 
delegates should be sent to Montgomery "to form immediately 
a strong Provisional Government, as tlie only tiling to prevent 
wary The State of Louisiana looked openly to a reunion, 
and published the assurance that as long as the Bordcn- 
States remained in the Union, she might be received back 
through their mediation. 

Nor was the action of the Montgomery Convention — when 
it was seen to be di'iving the South into war — unattended by 
popular protests. Tiie people became sensible of the rapid 
movement of the wheels of revolution under them ; they were 
hurried along in a state of bewilderment; but there were 
those who loudly proclaimed iheir alarm, and cried out 



9-i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

against the precipitancy. Why should not the ]\rontgomery 
Convention try at least some demand, some possible expedi- 
ent before the ultimatum of war ? Why go so far at a single 
step 7 " Posterity," said a member from Georgia, " will con- 
demn the advocates of Secession for the single reason that the 
seceding States in their several Conventions, made no demand 
for the redress of grievances, but madly — yea, blindl}- — pre- 
cipitated a revolution." 

But such protests were voices against the wind. The 
Montgomery Convention carried every thing with swift and 
irresistible force, and gave neither time for the popular alarm 
to take effect nor the slightest opportunity for the popular 
judgment to recover control of its affairs. In truth what 
the thoughtful historian must most deepl}^ meditate of the 
causes and origin of the late war is the extent to which the 
popular element of the South was excluded from its inception. 
It was in constant subjection from the moment a conspiracy 
of Southern Senators at Washington held at arm's-length the 
States and dictated their course. Indeed there were cases 
where it was ignored to the extent of States passing ordi- 
nances of Secession, even after the Legislatures calling the Con- 
ventions had forbid the effect of such ordinances until ratified 
by the vote of the masses. It had no direct representation in 
the Convention at Montgomery. It did not confirm their 
work.* It had nothing to do with the early acts of the war ; 
and briefly the astounding fact appears that the first time the 
ixople of the South had direct action on their affairs since the 

* The only confirmation which the Montgomery Government ever 
received was by the State Conventions ; and that only to the extent 
of approving the Provisional Constitution, which was to remain in 
force for one year, then to be supplanted by a regular Constitution, 
and officers duly elected under it. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 95 

election of Abniliam Lincoln was to vote for a President, after 
^h\ Davis had been "provisional" chief or practical dictator, 
one whole year, counting from his inauguration at Montgom- 
ery. Whetlier the war was right or wrong is logically not 
involved in the question whether it was determined by the 
many or by the few ; but certainly history has had few in- 
" stances of such daring and strident usurpation as that com- 
menced by fourteen men plotting revolution in a committee- 
room at AVashington, and consummated by an irresponsible 
Convention proclaiming a war, electing a leader, and organ- 
izing a government, without let or hindrance I 



06 LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS, WITH 



CHAPTEE YII. 

C;u>sos wliioli dotorminod Mr. Pavis" Ktootiou as Presidoiit of tho Cimfotlorate States — Tit* 
claims of llowoll Cobb !>ix'rt'tly ootisidered at Montgomery^Pavis' Resoiitmeut of Cobb as a 
Possible Eival — Vopiilar Congratulations on the Selection of Mr. Davis as LeaiUn- — llis Qualifi- 
cations for such a Vvxsition — Stejuiy Line of Distinction between Davis ami the South — A Vatal 
Weakness of the Mew I'l-esitlent — An Attempt to Dotiue the Objects of the War — Mr. Davis 
as a ■■ Mixed '■ Charactei- — AKemarkable Dresentiment at Montgomery — A Criticism of Mr. 
Davis in Anticipation of llis Ailmiuistration. 

The election of ^[r. Davis to the Presidential office at 
Montg'omery Avas not publicly contested ; but that ho Avas the 
iinanimons choice of the Southern people is by no means so 
clear as has been generally supposed. The Charleston Jler- 
cunj contended that the ]V[ontgoniery Convention had no 
authority to elect a President, and intiiuated that a ''snap- 
judgment" had been taken on the public. A party in Geor- 
gia was malcontent, and the Augusta Ohvonick insisted that 
Alexander II. Stephens should have led the movement for 
constitutional liberty and Southern independence, because he 
bore no " stain of the prevalent corruption." But these opin- 
ions were not brought to the test of the popular verdict, and 
whatever their significance or value, it is unquestionable that 
]Mr. Pavis had many qualities to constitute him tlie represen- 
tative man of the South in this crisis of her destiny, and 
to signalize him as the leader of her movement to in- 
dependence. 

A ISTorthern member of Congress, familiar with much of 
;N[r. Pavis's public and private life, and partially sympathizing 



SECRET niSTOUY OF THE CONFKDKUACY. 97 

with his politics, has thus dvawu his picture as IcaikM- and 
hci"o of "the lost cause:" — "Every revolution lias a fabulous 
or actual hero conformable to the local situation, manner, and 
character of tlie poople who rise. To a rustic people like the 
Swiss, William '^^IV^Il, with his cross-bow and tlu^ ai)])le; to an 
aspiring race like the Americans, AVashington, with liis 
sword and the law, are, as Lamartine once said, the symbols 
standino: erect at the cradles of these two distinct liberties ! 
Jciferson Davis, haughty, self-willed, and j)ersistent, Cull of 
martial ardor and defiant eloquence, is the symbol, both in 
his character and in his present situation, of the proud and 
impulsive, but suppressed ardors and hopes of the Southern 
mind." 

'I'lie causes which determined tlie elevation of Mr. Davis to 
the oIFice of President of the Southern. Confederacy have al- 
ready been briefly referred to. lie had been chosen as chief 
by the revolutionary cabal at Washington. In some j~)ersonal 
reminiscences (jf this period related after tlui war, and when 
he might have been supposed to s|)eak with humiliation, 
Mr. Davis has exj)lained that "one of his chief recommenda- 
tions for the chief ofhce of the Confedci'acy lay in the fact 
that after the removal of Calhoun and General Quitman by 
death, he became the chief exponent or representative of those 
principles of State Sovereignty which the South cherished, 
and of which, as he claimed, the Fathers oC the country had 
been the founders, Thomas JelVerson the inspired prophet, 
and they the eloquent ajxxstles." But there is an egotism and 
conceit in this scarcely t()leral)le. Mr. Davis, whatever his 
other qualifications for the preference of the South, was no 
more the representative of State Sovereignty than were Hun- 
ter, of Virginia ; Yancey of Alabama, or Toombs, of Georgia — 
certainly not more than Alexander II. Stephens, whose friends 



98 LIFE OF JEFFKRSON" DAVIS, WITH A 

for a time disputod for him tlie claim of eminence in the for- 
tunes of a new government founded on the peculiar princi- 
ples of a Southern Democracy. It is not generally known 
that there was even another person who disputed not slightly, 
at Montgomery with Mr. Davis, the office of leader and chief 
magistrate. This person was already in the conspicuous 
place of presiding officer of the Montgomery Congress ; it was 
an office next to that of President and naturally suggested 
promotion to it. It thus happened that in the secret confer- 
ences of the committee on Military Aftairs the name of How- 
ell Cobb was for some time considered in connection with the 
chief office in the gift of the South, and in competition with 
that of Jefi'erson Davis. 

It was a competition not canvassed in public, not brought 
to the test of a vote and perhaps but a brief and speculative 
suggestion in the secret conferences at Montgomer}* ; but that 
there was such a consideration of Howell Cobb has been 
testified to the author in the subsequent regrets of some of 
the most influential members of the Provisional Congress that 
they had neglected the man who, after all, was best qualified 
for the office of the President of the Confederacy, and whose 
strong practical judgment might have been a saving substi- 
tute for the showy qualities and shallow brilliancy of Mr. 
Davis. The statesman in time of peace, and the leader of a re- 
volution have missions more distinct than the vulgar opinion 
regards them; and who can doubt that history has more often 
shown the latter successful in the person of plain men of ro- 
bust character than in that of cultivated scholars and "admira- 
ble Crichtons." But ]\Ir. Cobb was not uncultivated; and 
thoSfe who knew him well claim that he added to the accom- 
plishments of the statesman natural virtues which summed a 
character the most estimable and complete among his cotem- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 99 

poraries in public life. He had none of the unhealthy fancies 
or refinements of an over-cultivated niind ; he was not defi- 
cient in the information and accomplishments necessary to 
found any great success in life; he was plain without coarse- 
ness and learned without affectation. He had that most uncom- 
mon of gifts — common sense; a nice and rotund adjustment 
of the faculties ; a practical and ready judgment; and — not 
least among the qualities of great and successful men — that 
strong, complacent physique suggested by the " 'me7is sana in 
corpore sano" — exactly that type of man which, not brilliant, 
is yet especially powerful, dexterous and conservative in' 
revolutionary times. 

Mr. Davis must have had some early intimation of the 
suggestion — imperfect as it was — of Mr. Cobb's name in oppo- 
sition to his own ; and he appears to have resented it with 
characteristic temper. The latter had not been presiding 
officer of the Provisional Congress many weeks before he 
mentioned to his friends that Mr. Davis's conduct had been 
cold and repellant to him for some unexplained reason ; he 
had naturally visited the President to suggest some consulta- 
tion 01! public affairs; Mr. Davis had each time replied, "I 
have no communication to make," and at last had done so 
with such disdain that Mr, Cobb broke off all intercourse 
with him. For the space of a year the tW(^ never exchanged 
a word, Mr. Cobb explaining to his friends that he had been 
wounded by the manner of the President when he approached 
him at Montgomery. It was the first instance of that fatal 
temper of Mr. Davis which n spelled every one who might '^ 
possibly share with him the public regard, and stand between 
him and the eyes of the world. ' 

But really in the early days of the Confederacy he had but 
little to fear that any other man in the South, either in posi- 



100 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

tion of rival or counsellor, could intercept the public admira- 
tion of himself; and the alarm which his vanity might have 
taken from Mr. Cobb was unreasonable. The latter had all 
the merit Ave liave described. But it was a type of leadership 
that had but little to dazzle the multitude, and it only stood 
in momentary competition with the brilliant and diseased 
character of Jefferson Davis. [Vhe first general impression of 
the people of the South on tlie selection of Mr. Davis as 
President was lively satisiiiction and a disposition to congratu- 
late themselves as on the striking natural fitness of their 
leader. The adjustment of aftairs at Montgomery had so for 
been apparently easy, and every thing seemed to have iallon 
in its proper place, with a President to fit exactly the mission 
he Avas to undertake. The popular congratulation Avas a 
plausible one, and not Avithout some foundation in foct. Mr. 
Davis Ave repeat Avas in many striking respects a fit and U)Fty 
representative of the proud and chivalrous people of the 
South ; he had many good qualities as a leader; he Avas a fair 
and adequate exponent of the best civilization of the South ; 
he ilhistratod in just and equal measures the political scholar- 
ship and social refinement of the land that had noAV impo.sed 
upon him its supreme representation in sight of the Avorld. 
He represented the best culture of the South ; he Avas un- 
doubtedly one of its first gentlemen ; he Avas a master of 
ceremonies in social life ; and yet, after all, he Avas a person 
but thinly qualified to conduct any great enterprise, or to 
make a conspicuous and determined mark in the history of 
his times. 

And here at the very outset of our narrative of the arms 
of the South, A\'e may make a brief estimate of its leader, and 
denounce, at the start, that vulgar error Avhich mistakes any 
intellectual superiority for universal genius, Avhich thinks that 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 101 

the accomplished orator or the ingenious politician must also 
be the wise statesman, and ■which constantly indulges the 
vague notion that the man who excels in one career must be 
capable of equal things in other callings. This, indeed, is 
true of genius— exceptionally true ; but there is no error more 
dangerous in the practical conduct of affairs as that which 
estimates men as alike able and excellent in whatever cause 
they may choose for themselves, or circumstances determine 
for them. In some respects, Jefferson Davis was an admirable 
man ; in other respects, we shall be prepared to denounce him 
as a fiiilure, a reproach and an abomination. 

And here, again, we must draw a steady line of distinction 
between Mr. Davis and the South — between the delinquencies 
of the leader and the merits of his cause. We do it here, 
because this distinction runs through the whole of our narra- 
tive ; because it is of the very spirit of our work, and because, 
with tliis idea adjusted to some extent in advance, we shall 
not be under the necessity of repeatedly asserting and pro- 
claiming it on particular questions. 

The autlior, in other works, has incurred the penalty of 
much popular misrepresentation in insisting on the virtues 
of the South in the past war, and yet persistently holding the 
opinion that Jefferson Davis was not a great man ; that he 
lacked the essential requisites of such a character ; that he was 
merely a narrow-brained person possessed of much address, 
and some very agreeable literary accomplishments which 
dazzled vulgar criticism and betrayed the admiration of the 
populace. This notion, to be sure, has been greatly resented 
by certain declamatory eulogists of Mr, Davis, men who have 
violently associated the virtues of his person with the merits 
of the Confederate cause. But such an association, we insist, 
is not proper or logical. Mr. Davis was to a great degree, an 



102 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAYIS, WITH A 

accident of the war, thrust into importance by fictitious influ- 
ences ; he added nothing to its inspiration, and he mixed with 
a great cause a game of selfishness and an experiment of 
vanity. 

The most striking qualit}', the most constant and signifi- 
cant event of Mr. Davis' administration, will be found to be 
his jealous repulsion of advisers and assistants, and his de- 
scent to rivalry in popularity with his subordinates and lieu- 
tenants. He had, as we shall see, a puerile eagerness to 
appropriate all the honors of the Confederate cause, and to 
wear them conspicuously in the sight of the world. In this 
he departed from tlie true line of greatness, and fell from the 
summit to which fortune raised him. It is the unfailing 
oharacteristic of the great man that he never descends to 
competition with his subordinates, but ingeniously takes 
every success of theirs as the source and sustenance of his 
own greatness. Napoleon I. had marshals whom some critics 
have thought superior to' himself in military genius; but he 
understood that so long as he was the central historical figure, 
history and the common opinion of mankind would naturally 
and logically refer their successes to himself, and bestow upon 
him the crowning glor3\ This, indeed, is the true art of the 
great man — the art of utilizing those around him, on the 
principle that the successes of his subordinates eventually 
recur to himself as the centre, magnifying him and filling up 
the measure of his fome, rather than the weak, jealous attempt 
of self assertion, which drives from itself all necessary aid and 
counsel, and choosing a naked eminence, finds only a vanish- 
' ing point. Such was the attempt of Jefferson Davis which 
we shall follow in our narrative, and display as the essential 
weakness of a little mind. He descended to competition with 
his lieutenants, instead of exciting among them a generous 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 103 

rivalry to serve his own central and crowning fame; he 
grasped at all public honors for himself; and so weak was his 
vanity, that it is remarkable it might be disturbed by the suc- 
cesses of his smallest suljordinato. 

But we are not going through here with an analysis of Mr. 
Davis's character. We arc only saying so much as we may 
properly say in advance of our narrative — designing only, in 
this [iluGC, to appropriate to him that single characteristic of 
egotism or excessive self-assertion which is necessary to be 
understood just here as separating him in a severe and re- 
markable manner fr(;m the cause whicli lie served, without 
representing, and which lie lost, without illusti-ating either 
its dignity or virtue. Wc have thought it proper to intro- 
duce this explanation here; to say so much of the character 
of the man, at the date of his appointment as supreme leader 
of the Soutli. We hiive ventured to indicate the s[)ii-it of our 
work, the basis of our narrative, without anticipating its inter- 
est, or prejudicing whatever future opinions we may advance 
in their due order of time and circumstance. 

The Soutliern people had in the late war a great and noble 
cause — rightly understood — a cause of constitutional liberty, 
one of national and traditional import. No cause ever com- 
manded braver men, and no men over served a better cause. 
It perished, but only aft(3r it had run an honorable career, 
only after its arms had been crcnvned with glory, and its nim- 
ble lance had tried every link in the mail of an adverse for- 
tune. However those who take afterthought of foi'tuuc may 
now despise and deride this cause — however they may use 
the flippant and easy libel of a false nomenclature, and call 
by the name of "rebellion" a struggle for what was perma- 
nent and traditional in American histor}'', there is no doubt it 
carried its arms with courage, and surrendered them with 
dignity. 



104 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

It is this cause wliicb we shall find Jefterson Davis mis- 
representing and degrading. With him the past war might 
have been an unworthy personal ambition, or an interest in 
Negro Slavery, the eagerness of an old decayed aristocracy to 
maintain its insolence and execute its menaces ; but in the 
estimation of the just and the intelligent, the struggle had the 
dignity of a higher and nobler cause, and was maintained in 
the spirit of a great constitutional contest. It has been called 
a " rebellion ;" but that is only a name, a vile word, the hiss 
of a weak and toothless argument. It has been called a 
"slaveholders' war;" but there fought in it men of the South 
who never owned a slave, or hoped to own one. It has been 
called " Secession," the rent of the Union, the diminution of 
its glories ; but the separation of the States was only the inci- 
dent of the war, and it might possibly have been overcome 
and repaired by the force of subsequent events. Indeed 
every explanation of the struggle fails — but this : that it was 
a manifestation of a traditional conflict in American politics, 
which continues to the present time, and is to-day vital, erect, 
critical, and dramatic. 

Jefterson Davis was not the man to act as leader of a cause 
so broad and august. He might have represented excellently 
well some of its externals, some of its accidents or surround- 
ings, but he fell inimitably below an occasion so great. The 
influences that elected him at Montgomery were accidental ; 
they were happy in some respects ; there were conspicuous 
and apparently fortunate coincidences in them ; biit they were 
fatal at the last. — A great cause was committed to an incompe- 
tent leader. The fiital error of the Southern Confederacy be- 
fell it at the moment that a man, perverse enough to ruin all 
that Avas committed to him, and yet plausible enough to hold 
for a long time the public confidence, became, by a strange 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 105 

fatality, the man best calculated and best able to wreck and 
betray the cause in which he was appointed. Indeed if a sin- 
gle individual had been sought within the limits of the South 
of such various character p,nd temper as most effectually to 
seduce public confidence, to dazzle it, and at last to brinij; it 
to ruin, the most certain and complete, he could not have 
been found more exactly than in the person of Jefferson 
Davis, For such a brilliant and unequal career he had really 
no competitors. 

On one of the first pages of this work we referred to the 
"mixed" character of Mr. Davis, and suggested what valuable 
and vivid subjects for biography have been found in charac- 
ters of this description. Indeed our best and most interesting 
biographical literature is to be found in the lives of those re- 
markable men, who have been apparent contradictions, who 
have been held in estimations the most opposite, who have 
been admired and detested by turns, not so much from the 
fickleness of the populace or the uncertainty of criticism, as 
from the variableness of their own characters. The popular 
opinion is not disposed to put faith in these contradictions, to 
accept them as facts, or to regard them as other than misap- 
prehensions — the man must be either great or mean, a hero 
or an imposter; and yet history is constantly telling us of 
men of great force and merit, who have yet had vices the 
most atrocious and frailties the most detestable, of those who 
have been at once " the wisest and meanest of mankind." A 
shallow criticism generally resents such estimates of men; 
and he who treats justly and independently of characters so 
remarkable is embarrassed between the enthusiasm of their 
friends and the extravagance of their enemies. A more 
thoughtful review however recognizes the possible reality of 
mixed and apparently inconsistent characters, appreciates the 



106 LIFE OF JKFFKUSON DAVIS, WITH A 

task of their analysis, and is satisfied to sec justly distributed 
in the biographical work their virtues and their vices. 

It is thus that we shall attempt to divide the good and the 
evil in the career of JelVerson Davis, and thus that we assert 
in the very beginning a rule of criticism which has been 
, often neglected, and which is yet drawn from the depths of 
nature and some traces of which are in our commonest expe- 
rience. It is only the base and diseased sensitiveness of 
partisans, on one side or the other, that resents the discrimina 
tions of history, and tliat would substitute for " skilled com 
mendation" the vulgar eulogium, and for qualified censure 
the rage of passion and the unmeasured words of denuncia- 
tion. 

When ]\[r. Davis commenced the career which resulted so 
disastrously to himself and " his people'' — in his address at 
the inauguration ceremonies at Montgomeiy in 1801 — he 
spoke with more than the customary self-distrust in the accep- 
tance of high public oiTice. He said: ''Experience in public 
stations of a subordinate grade to tliis which your kindness 
has conferred, has taught me that care and toil and disappoint- 
ments are the price of oflicial elevation. You will see many 
errors to forgive, many deficiencies to tolerate ; but you shall 
not hnd in me either want of zeal or fidelity to the cause that 
is to mo the highest in hope, and of most enduring alleetion." 
The presentiment and the pledge of this speech were alike 
fullilled. ]\lr. Davis did, as the author firmly believes, com- 
mit numerous and grievous errors in the administration of 
public alVairs; but his worst enemy could never question his 
zeal or devotion, and no hostile partisan was ever adventur- 
ous enough to cast a breath of suspicion on his fidelity to the 
cause of which he was so trnly enamored, and in Avhich he 
was so deeply interested. 



SKCUKT IlISTOKY OK TIIK ('()NM''K DKIJACY. 107 

Wo sliiill SCO, as our uarralivo pco^i'csst^s, lliat lio did iiiiicli 
to adorn t,Iu) (.'-aiiso of llio Coiil'cilcrac-y hy \\\c. jMiril.y ol' liis 
lil'c, liis a(U',oiuj)li.slmi(Mits, his c^lo(^ii('iuu>, his dignity, llio 
niarktul contrast ol' his mind and niannci's to t]io uncouth 
r.oprosontativo of the Noi'th at Washington. \Vc shall soo 
that ill many respects lie greatly honoi'iul his counti-ymtm. Wu 
shall SCO that in the entire progress of the war, the iMliuiatod 
o|)inion ol" i'hirope was iiu'lined to the St)Utli hy a sti'ong ])ei'- 
sonal adniii-ation ol' Mr. Davis, as i)\\c, of the lirst sc-holais and 
orators ol' America; tliat it could not fail to compare his Kjarn- 
ing, his polish, his clo(|uence with the rude eonctiits and 
cranks, the tangled l*]nglish and the literai-y petndlarities of 
tljo Northern Ti-esident. Wt; shall S(u; that hi; represented 
sonui of the btist virtues and aecom[)lishmcnts ol' liis country- 
men ; that ho raised, in somo res])ects, the standai'd of Sonth- 
cvn clKiracti'i- in the eyes of the world; that he; (hnioralt'tl tlu; 
Conrederal(! name with ma,ny nohk; literary images, and that 
ho served the ( 'onfederate cause with distinguished jK;rsonal 
devotion. i>nt wo shall also sec^ that he — of all men in tlui 
South — ruined this cause;; that he mixed with his (hivotioii to 
il, animosities tlu; most unworthy ; that he carri<!d along and 
bound uj) with his public career a scicret histoi-y of s[)iterul 
and mean jealousies. Wo sliaJl see that his mind was uiiba,l 
aiieed ; that his judg-ment was at once shallow and pcrviu'se , 
that though his lil'e was not stained wilh dishonor, it was 
often steepeil in petty nieaimesses ; that an obstacle to wise 
counsellors, he was yet a,n easy pn^y to llatlerors; that over- 
taxing his time and almost wearing onl his life by ine(\ssa.nt 
labors, he had yet no i'aciilty of bnsincss; that zealous and 
impertinently l)usy in ])ublic alVairs, he was yet trilling and 
whimsical, a creator of nothing; that haiighl v, persistcuit, re- 
pellant of advice, the approach to his vanity was always o[ten, 



108 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

and tlie avenues of his patronage beset by a conceit as easily 
bribed as by an obstinacy that was inexorable. Finally, we 
shall see how a nature, capable of better things in another and 
quieter career, was wholly unequal to the trials of a leader of 
a great revolution ; how an ambition intoxicated b}^ great oppor- 
tunities, became at last malign and paltry ; and how Jefferson 
Davis, AvJio might have continued a distinguished man in a 
lesser cause, or, at least, not have had occasion there to un- 
mask his weaknesses, fell under an accumulation of fortnne, 
and ended his career in unequalled rnin and degradation. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONB^KDERACY. 109 



CHAPTER VIII. 

The Fire on Fort Sumter — The First Shot of the War — Cougratulatious iu President Davis's Cabi- 
net — The Second Secessionary Movement — Fatal mistalie of Mr. Lincoln — llo Adds a now 
Breadth to the War — Preiiaratious at Montgomery — Mr. Davis and an OflRce-Seelver — Secret 
Design of Mr. Davis in his Display of Military Preparations — Sndden Disappearance of the 
Union Party Accounted for — Secession of Virginia — A Torch-Light Procession in Richmond — 
Robert E. Lee Appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Virginia Forces — His Ciiaracter — His 
Motives in Leaving the Federal Service — His Political Opinions — The Fallacy of " Petitio 
Principii" — General Lee Accepting a Sword in the State-House — The Confederate Stages 
Oovernment Removed to Richmond — Howell Cobb's Pledge for the Congressmen — Arrival of 
President Davis in Richmond — Popular Raptures — Eloquent Speeches of the President — " No 
Surrender." 

The fire on Fort Sumter opened the war ; and from this 
octagonal work, the main post of defence in Charleston Har- 
bor, rolled off the panoramic scene of four j^^ars of armed 
and bloody conflict. But a day before this bah^ful lire, Roger 
A. Pryor, in a speech to the citizens of Charleston, had said : 
" I will tell you what will put Virginia in the Southern Con- 
federation in less than an hour by Shrewsbury clock. Strike 
a blow !" The blow was struck ; and not only Virginia was 
added to the new Union, but there came trooping, in a second 
secessionary movement, the States of North Carolina, Tennessee 
and Arkansas ; and not only such accession of territory and 
means to the government at Montgomery, but another breadth 
to the issues of the war, an added significance to the contest; 
and a new inspiration for the South. 

The question has been made by some juvenile minds, which 
party fired the first shot in the war. But the true responsi- 



110 LIFE OF JKFFKUSOX PAVIS. WITH A 

bility for the ooinmenocmcnt of hostilities is not to be found 
in a oireumstanee so paltiy Jind external. The question is 
rather whieh party lirst indieated the purpose of hostility, 
whieh made the fatal nienaee. \vhieh drew rather than \vhieh 
delivered the lire at Sumter. If JelVersou Davis signed the 

1 order for the reduetion of tlie fort, Abraham Lineoln had. 

f before, signed tlie order to reinforce it. Under a pretenee of 
relieving a starving garrison he had thrust in the t'aee oi' the 
South the menace of an expedition, consisting of eleven ves- 
sels, with two hundred and eighty-live guns and twenty-four 
hundred men. The reply to this was the blow that reduced 
Fort Sumter, and cleared the way of the South to the sea. 

The South did tire the tirst shot. " We opened lire at 4.30 
A. M." dispatched General Beauregard to the Secretary of 
War of the Confederate States on the 12th of April. The 
historic shot was a shell from a howitzer battery on elames' 
Island, It pursued its way to a silent fortiiication. A white 
sn\oke floated after it. parted from its upmost curve, and mel- 
ted iu the higher air of heaven, like a departing angel of 
peace, as the ntissile sped on its errand of ruin and affright. 
It was the messenger of Avar in the cloudless sky of a Spring- 
day, Alas, with what fortunes was fraught this missile des- 
cribing its beautiful curve through the balmy air. A mo- 
ment more, and that air was llllod and smitten with the tlcry 
wings of death; the ear was torn by fearful sounds; several 
miles of batteries were sending forth their wrath at the grim 
fortress that rose so detiantly from the sea. The shrill scream, 
the dull boom, the exjilosicm now sharp and now s{>luttering, 
wrought an expression of war to which many of those assem- 
bled iu contest were utter strangers, having never heard 
before of terrilic sounds but "heaven's artillery'' in their 
native mountains. 



SECRET IITSTOHY OK TUK CONFEDEKACr. Ill 

'^I'lic gr.'uid HiMliioriiiin of war was sik;occ(1o(1 by a scfJH! to 
wliicli the (larkncHS ol' tlie iii^lit wa.s nocflod to give (jjlbct. 
TIk; fort liad li(;l(l out, roplyin;^ only at rnoasurcfl intervals, 
and tli(; Stars and Stri))e.s were S(;eii floa.tiiiL'; in l.lie breeze at 
twilight. When llic niLdit li;id d(;se(;nde(l, IIk; (;on(rd(;rate 
batteries wer(i still in full pliiy. 'I'lie sicies wei-e dark'cned by 
rain-clouds; a wind blew in short;, and ref)eated with distinct- 
ness in tin; streets of (Jlia,rI(;ston tlie regular Ixjoni <W' tlie 
guns. 'V\\('. liorizon a|)|)ca,r(;(l, ntnv and tlieii, to lift from a 
sheet of llanio, and the trails of the shells were now j)laiidy 
seen along the black skies. It was a tracery of tlie heavens 
more nea,r and mon; fciU'Cul lli;iri tliat of astronoriii(; vision. 
Thousands watehe'l it from tlie wharves of C'liarleston. 'I'lie 
lire was kept up until near midnight ; and those in the city 
who laid down to sleep before tha,t time heard tlie sounds that 
told thciri that war had come on the laii'l, and that a day 
memorable to them and th(;ii- childi-en's cliildren was being 
numbere*], by tlu; mea,sured strok(;s of battle, in the history of 
the worhh 

"J^he next day the Coidederates fir(;d with more accuracy; 
and before its close, the Stars and Strijjes were lowered from 
the post where they had so hmg been a taunting spectacle 
to Charleston, and a defianct; to the South. 'r\\r. (brt surren- 
dered after a contxist whi<',li had continued thi'()ugh thirty- 
four hours; its interior a hc;ip of I'uins, but its walls still 
standing with the marks of six hundr(;d shot on them. Major 
Anderson notified the authorities at Washington that "on 
the afternoon of tlu; 14th of April, he ma.r<;h(!d out of the Ibi-t, 
with colors Hying and drums beating, bringing away company 
and private property and saluting his Hag with fii'ty guns." 
But if his colors flew and his drums beat, it was but a sorry 
affectation; for he had ])een driven out of a defence tliat the 



112 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

North had declared impregnable, and the South, in the eyes 
of the world, had plucked the first laurel of the war. 

Nothing could exceed the transport at Montgomery, when 
it was known that Sumter had surrendered, and there swiftly 
followed the news that Mr. Lincoln had thereupon called for 
seventy-five thousand men, and made a virtual proclamation 
of war. President Davis showed all the joy that could be ex- 
pected from one afilicted with neuralgia and dyspepsia; too 
unwell to appear before the crowd that clamored around his 
hotel for a speech of congratulation, but not too feeble to in- 
dulge his triumph in his Cabinet. Tlie call of Mr. Lincoln 
for troops was treated there with derisive laughter. Mr. 
Benjamin, the Secretary of State, sat at a table, and wrote in 
verse a travesty of the call which afterwards found its way 
into the newspapers. Mr. Davis had reason to be Avell pleased 
at the turn events had taken ; he saw at once the great mis- 
take which the rival President at Washington had committed 
in usurping powers, and in broadly translating the war of 
Secession into a war for Liberty. 

The added force and inspiration given to the war by the 
second secessionary movement of the States, impelled by Mr. 
Lincoln's proclamation, was the true significance of the affiir 
of Sumter. It Avas not only that it added so many new 
States to the Southern Confederation ; but it superinduced a 
new issue, and afforded a new appeal in the interest of the 
South. It was thus that the second movement of Secession 
took place on a basis higher than the first, on a broader issue 
and on better principles. It answered a call to the defence 
of liberty rather than the former feeble outcry of a complaint 
not substantiated, the mere fear of aggression. It furnished 
the "overt act" in an open breach of the Constitution of the 
United States. The proclamation of Mr. Lincoln was fuel 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 113 

cast on the flame of Sumter. From the time be put his foot 
on the Constitution and proclaimed a war, without the action 
of Congress, from that moment he appeared in the character 
of a dictator and despot, and from that moment tlje war in 
the South acquired a new inspiration. It grew, as it were, in 
one day, into the character and dimensions of a great popular 
revolution; it threw oft' the bad name of "rebellion;" it rid it- 
self of much that had been odious in the early history of 
Secession ; and disencumbered of the arguments and re- 
proaches of those who had clung to the Union only as a 
guaranty of peace — and even gathering many of these former 
protestauts in its ranks — it henceforth unfurled its banners 
as those of a contest for constitutional liberty."^' 

* It may be scarcely necessary to repeat here a thought which the 
reader should have already recognized in previous pages, viz. : — that 
no matter how the North and South got into the war— and even, if 
the latter was immediately impolled into it by a narrow and ambi- 
tious conspiracy — the question is not affected as to the real merit of 
the South in the contest. Every thoughtful historian must recognize 
that as the war widened and as its true volume and significance were 
developed the South rose higher and higher in the moral estimation 
of her cause ; — and if any one at this day questions that that cause 
was truly one of lihcrty the sequel of the war is perhaps the best test 
and argument to apply to such a doubt. If the cause of Secession 
became ultimately pregnant with the cause of the Constitution, the 
North made it so by her violence in the war. The fact is that at the 
last the South fought for her institutions, and fought for them under 
cover of a contest for the constitutional and traditional lilicrties of the 
country. 

The distinction referred to is thus powerfully indicated in an article 
of the Old, Guard (18G6) :— 

" Here is a torn and bleeding and lacerated thing — an aggregation 
of all fierce antagonisms — a great pot of confiicting passions, interests 
and prejudices, simmering, and boiling, and Ijubbling with injustice 
8 



11-i [.IFF, OF JKFFKKSON DAVIS. Willi A 

'Mr. Davis saw this now biwulth oi' tl\o war as an iiuMvasc 
of his triumph. Ir was the signal lor cuh\rgotl niilitavy 
preparations. Thorc was already n, loroo of nearly oo.OOO 
men in the iield, chieily distributed at Charleston and Pensa- 
cola : and the rage for volunteering was furnishing troops 
faster than the government eould organi/.e them. The requi- 
sition for lifteen hnndred troops from the President's State — 
Mississippi — was answered by more than three thousand 

and hato — which n\adn\ou and fools Avould have us call a Union. 
But wo, for one, will not so call it. because we will not lie. Union 
is concord; it is harmony. lUu there never can be i-oucoril. Imrinouy 
or Union on the basis ot' fanaticism, intolerance, or injustice. And 
we pray Almighty tuxl there never may be ! Wc never wish to sec 
our country fall so low as to exhibit a imiversal acquieseence in dcs- 
potisu\ and tyranny. IVtter eternal strite than an hour ot' cowardice 
aiid unmanly surrender of selt-governu\eut and liberty ! Better eter- 
nal strife than peace in injustieo ! AVc are \o\k\ that there was a 
great, and radit'al, and necessary antagouisn\ between the jSiorth aud 
South. AVho is to blame for that antagonism ? Pid the South start 
it? AVhen ■? Avhere? how? The 2s' tut h answers that she had an 
institution which we could not endure. Was the South to bhnue for 
our prejudice ? She held her institutions by a charter beyond our 
right to meddle with, aud guarantied even by the Constitution that 
made the Union. The whole controversy is in a nut-shell, thus : 
The Korth says to the South, we have prejudices against yoiu- insti- 
tutions, and you n\ust give them up. The South replies, we hold 
ovu" institutions by organic and statute laws, yoiu" prejudices are the 
vagaries of the brain, aud if any thing ought to be given up for the 
sake of peace, it is your prejudices. So it can\e siu\ply to this : — 
that the South must give up its riiili1.<, or the North its pr«;/(((?Joe^^ 
and as the North preferred to tight rather than give up its jirejudices, 
the contlict can\e. The North were lighting for its prejudices, the 
South for its rifihts. Both parties may liave gotten into the strife un- 
wisely, but, being in, this is the simple auil iueiVaceable truth of the 
whole matter." 



SECKKT JriSTOUy OF THE CONKKIjEUACV. 1J5 

volunteers; .itkI tlioHC who had the good fortune to be accep- 
ted were ofTerefl bonuses by those ou.</(:r to t;ike their places 
in tlie honors and hazards of war. A Navy l)epartment was 
organized. 'J'wo steamers were fitted out at New Orleans ; 
contracts were made for the casting of ordnance ; and it was 
boasted that a single mill in South Carolina was then manu- 
facturing fifty kegs of gunpowder a day. A nother proclama- 
tion of President Davis was issued two days after that of i.in- 
coln. It offered letters of marque to all persons who mi^dit 
desire, by service in private armed vessels, to aid the govern- 
ment; anrl it was cxultingly said that Mr. 1)hvih had produced 
by this proclamation a new arm of the South, more powerful 
than the navies of the Nortli, and that might scourge the 
oceans of both hemispheres. 

But even in the midst of these preparations it is wonderful 
how little was conceived at Montgomery of the prospect of an 
extended and elaborate war. It is now known that these 
preparations — and especially the large levies of troop.s— were 
designed to over-awe the North, to strike its imagination by 
a display of superior force, rather than to conduct real opera- 
tions. It was supposed that the commercial necessities of 
that section would make an early suit for peace. "I appre- 
hend," said a member of the Montgomery Congress, "that wo 
are conscious of the power we hold in our hands by reason 
of our producing that staple so necessary to the world. I 
doubt not that power will exert an influence mightier than 
armies and navies. V\^e know that by an embargo we could 
soon place, not only the United States, but many of the 
European Powers, under the necessity of electing l;etween 
such a recognition of our independence as we require, or 
domestic convulsions at home." Such visions of the power 
of "King Cotton" were the familiar imaginations at Mont- 



11(3 LIFK OK -JEFFERSON PAVIS, AVITIT A 

gomorv. Tliero wouUl be no wav. or si'arcolv one of niou 
th;u\ a tew lielils. wliieh would determine tlio superior n^au- 
liood of the South and dismay the North from a prolonged 
contest of arms. Mr. Davis was never done ex})ressing this 
opinion in secret council at Montgomery, however much lie 
might have publicly exhorted the South to display her 
ntuiost strength, designing such display as a menace to the 
enemy, or, perhaps, to some extent, as a dramatic eiYect of 
his own vanity of power. A favored candidate for office ap- 
plied to him a few (hiys after the fall of Sumter, for a situa- 
tion in the War Department, suggesting that there would be 
an accumulation of business in that branch of the government. 
I\[r. Davis smiled siguiheantly, and remarked that the woi'k 
in that Department would be light — so light that he recom- 
mended the candidate to a})ply rather Ibr a place in the Con- 
federate Treasury, as there he would be likely to have a 
longer tenure of office. 

Yet whether or not there Avas to be a serious war. and no 
matter to what length it might go, it is remarkable that 
scarcely one intelligent man in the South — and least of all 
Mr. Davis — doubted the issue of success. It is true, that since 
the opposite conclusion of tlie contest, many persons in the 
South, illustrating that connnon di.shouesty which makes men 
declare that they foresaw whatever has happened, and im- 
j^elled in many instances by a mean desire to repair the past 
and to conciliate present o}>inion, have declared that tliey ex- 
pected from the llrst the overthrow of the Southern Con- 
federac}'-, and prophesied in their hearts the triumph of the 
North. But this is the bald and detestable falsehood of time- 
service. Scarcely an intelligent person in the South, at the 
period of which we write, doubted that the Secession of the 
Southern States was equivalent to their independence ; that 



SECIiKT MrsTOP.Y OP T(IK CONraDKKACy, 1|7 

the Latter wa., o„ly ,. ,iu.,s,,io„ of ti,„e .nd effort; and tl,o 
s.n«„ar proof of the breadth of tl,is delusion i, the aln,o.t 
complete d,,appearanee of the Union party in the South_a 
d,«appoaranee ,vl,ieh eontinued precisely „p to that tin.e 
when the disasters of the (Confederate arm, ,Iid produce a 
ieehug of uneertainty.* But there was no ,,ueh feelin. ia 



* U 



'Ami l,„re ivo have the opportunity of introducini- an aooount of 

one of the n.ost curious pLonomena of the uar-tho su,l,l..„ ex ml 

nt,re ,l,sappeara„e„ of the Union party in .„o South on th , ^ .' 

t.«n 01 ,Scce.,s,„„. Immediately tefore this event, that ,,arty l,a,l h .m 

mnnereus and for, ahle ; it had a compaet or-aniltiol 

atUchcd to the Umon, and who were ineapahle of ehan<m„, thHr 

.mons a the mere ,,iddin« of e.pedieney. And yet .Jvcr 
pohfcal par y more qu.ekly and entirely vanish from the seene alter 
an untoward eleetion, than did the Unionist, of the South air 
,»elan,at.o„ of .Secession. The explanation of this extra dh,; 
.Appearance ■« to he found not so n.ueh in the easy virtue of po ' 

seemed to have taken possession of the whole n.ind of the Soull, hat l!,e 
.rai^ndmg conflict would neeessariiy result in its fi.vor, and that e' 
mere declaration of Secession was „uife as decisive of the fi,„. of' ' 
Union as would l,„ the last hattle of the war. The Union farty in' 
the South had contended for the Union up to the question of Se ,- . 
«.on; and that deeid.,d, it considered the controversy practicallv 
determ„,cd and prepared to aeeon>n,o<late itself to what it rc-arded 
a» the ,nev,tahle fact of assured separation. The mass of the Tsouth- 
enipeople, both Secessionists and Unionisls, appears at this thne 
m V r to have admitted even the possil.ility of an overthrow of the 
southern arms, and defeat of the Coufe-derate cause; and the li- v 
mmd, that did entcrlain sueh an event were so few a, only to eonsli- 
tnte the exception which prove, the rule. M'hen the Union memhers 
of the Vir^oma Convention sohhed at their desks, and exchanged 
tearful sympathies as the vote for .Secession was announced, it v^a, 
hecau.,e they deemed that it,was ali over, and that hy the m re will 



118 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

tlie commcuccment of the war. The Union party in the Soutli 
liad nothing to build on; it snnk out of sight with a sudden- 
ness that only a conviction of its despair can exjdain, and it 
left the Held to the foregone conclusion of the independence 
of the South. " None but tlie demented can doubt the issue," 
wrote Greneral Beauregard a few days after the affair of Sum- 
ter. "Obstacles may retard," explained Islr. Davis, in his 
inaugural address, "they cannot long prevent the progress 
of a movement sanctiiied by its justice and sustained by a 
virtuous people." Nor were these boasts, nor assurances of 
tlie success of the Confederacy and consnnnnations of Dis- 
union yet opinions of but individual force: they were the ex- 
pressions of the best intelligence of the South, and the cclioes 
of the common thought of the people — even where that thought 
was not fathered by wishes, and was an unwelcome conclusion 
rather than a glad anticipation. 

of the South the dissolution of the Union was irrevocabl}' decrootl. 
It is astonishing how universal and supreme was a conviction in tlie 
South, which subsequent events were so signally to belie. If we are 
to find an explanatiou for such a delusion, we perhaps need go no 
further than that popular vanity which, embracing for once the in- 
telligent with the vulgar, appears to be the couiniou sin of all com- 
munities in America. But whatever tlie cause, there is no doubt 
that the Southern public Avas so genei'alfy assured of the teriniuatiou 
of the war in favor of a Southern Confederacy, that the ITuioii party 
within the limits of the seceded States considered that the role of 
controversy was ended, and that nothing Avas left them but to submit 
til the fat, and accommodate themselves to the change. Had there 
been in the early periods of the war any considerable doubt in the 
South of the issue of the war, it is more than probable that the Union 
party would have maintained its organization, asserted itself much 
sooner than it did, and seriously disturbed the first j'^ears of the 
government." — Lee and his Lkutcnants. Pp. 238, 239. 



SECllET HISTOTIY OF THE COXFEDKRACY. 119 

While Mr. Davis and his associates were making their 
rather scenic preparations for war, events were taking place 
on a side tlicatre, smaller in dimensions, but for a time more 
important and vivid than that at Montgomery. This theatre 
was the State of Virginia. The logical course of the story of 
the war takes us there after Sumter. Virginia had long 
hesitated to go out of the Union and to erect a government in 
opposition to it ; but the proclamation of Mr. Lincoln offered 
a provocation which she could no longer withstand, and ex- 
tended a challenge which she could not afibrd to waive and 
whicli she was not content to brook. The Examiner had a 
quaint and impressive figure of the secession of Virginia. 
"She turned around, and walked out of the Union, with the 
step of an old Queen," There were thousands to hail her in 
her royal wandering and to shout "Excelsior" as she went, 
bearing the insignia of her sovereignty from the shadow of a 
trailing flag and turned her face, lofty and sorrowful, upon 
the path of a new fortune. That flag was stricken down in 
an instant; and as if by magic a new flag, the symbol of the 
Southern Confederacy, appeared on the Capitol, appeared on 
all the hills of Eichmond, in the windows of houses, in the 
hands of passengers on the street. Cannon were fired around 
it; giddy crowds saluted it. The capital of Virginia gave it- 
self up to the intoxication of a general joy. A torch-light 
procession illuminated the night of the 19th of April. A 
track of transparencies gleamed from Clmreh Hill to the Ex- 
change Hotel, and ended there in a vast crowd which hung 

n the speeches of orators speaking from balconies, imparting 
words of fire to the head of the column that toiled for a mile 
in one of the main tlioroughfares of Kichmond. Not quite 
four years later through that same thoroughfare reaching 
from hill to hill, following step by step, the route of the torch- 



120 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

light procession of 1861, passed the Federal Army, the line 
of conquering bayonets ; and at that same convenient stand- 
point of the Exchange Hotel, where orators had inflamed the 
bearers of "the Southern Cross" and pointed to flags that 
"would float over Washington in thirty days," was collected 
the thickest of the mob that shouted Avelcome to the enemy, 
and cheered their way to the easy slopes of the Capitol. 

The popular rapture on the Secession of Virginia was some- 
thing peculiar ; its sudden extent showed how repressive of 
the true sentiment of her people had been the Convention that 
had so long hesitated to take the course dictated at Mont- 
gomery. A correspondent of a Eichmond paper wrote : — 
" I can give you no idea of the military spirit of the State. 
Augusta County, a strong Whig Union county, and Eocking- 
ham, an equally strong Democratic Union county, lying side 
by side with Augusta, each, contribute fifteen hundred men 
to the war. The war spirit is not confined to the men, or to 
the white population. The ladies are not only preparing 
comforts for the soldiers, but arming and practising them- 
selves. Companies of boys, also, from ten to fourteen years 
of age, fully armed and well drilled, are preparing for the fray. 
In Petersburg three hundred free negroes offered their services, 
either to fight under white officers, or to ditch and dig." 

In estimating the contributions of Virginia to the war, it is 
not only the spirit and resources she gave to it we have to 
calculate, but there is place here to mention one single gift 
she made to the South worth more than all her other princely 
cessions. She gave to the Confederate service Eobert E. Lee. 
Of this man, more than any other the military leader of the 
South, and more than any other — far more than Jefferson 
Davis, its ornament — we may say something here — and that 
too without decline of our narrative to a slis2:ht event. In 



SECEET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 121 

fact the resignation of Lee from the United States army was 
the signal of that defection from the Federal service which 
contributed to the Southern Confederacy nearly all it had of 
military talents, which did more than any thing else to sus- 
tain its arms, and Avhich gave the severest blow to the Federal 
Grovernment, as it was arming on the threshold of the war. 
In resigning his commission in the Federal Army and ofi'er- 
ing his sword to his native State, Lee was, both the herald of 
a great event and the representative of a great principle. 

Eobert B. Lee was one of the few characters in the past 
war that obtained admiration or favor on both sides. Indeed, 
in a war which proved to be so vast and exasperated, and in 
which the combatants became so widely and so oppositely 
separated, it required either a transcendent genius, or a large 
and generous breadth of character to draw from both sides 
a common tribute of admiration, and to win a joint enco- 
mium. In the case of General Lee, we are persuaded it was 
this second quality rather than any rare gift of genius, that 
has obtained for him a certain community of praise, and that 
distinguished him in the estimation of the North, as well as 
raised him to the pinnacle of admiration in the regards of his 
Southern countrymen. It was only a great man who could 
achieve any thing like a common reputation in the excessive 
heat and recrimination of the war, where there were so few 
points of agreement in either opinion or feeling ; but " great- 
ness" is the broadest of encomiastic terms, and the interesting 
and difficult question remains, after having conferred the 
term, in what respect and in what degree the individual was 
great ? This question, with reference to Eobert E. Lee, is 
not one of much intricacy, and we believe that history will 
adjust his reputation, and settle the proportions of his figure 
in the war, with more than usual justice and exactness. 



122 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

In the progress of our narrative there will be found some 
fruitful and peculiar studies concerning the character of Gen- 
eral Lee. Whatever the works of his life, they were accumu- 
lated under that sense of duty which even more than ambition 
taxes the public man, and fills his measure of usefulness. 

The " sense of duty " is one of those virtues Avhich partakes 
largely of the temperament of the individual. With some it 
is an over-delicacy of conscience ; with others a plaguing 
and unhappy casuistry. General Lee appears, however, to 
have had that healthful and robust sense of duty which acts 
with decision, and marches straight to its work, which forti- 
fies the soul in all circumstances, and inculcate the virtues of 
self-possession and readiness. His severest illustration of a 
sense of duty, he gave, in resigning from the Federal Army, 
and turning his sword upon the government which, for 
twenty-five years he had served with honor and satisfac- 
tion. 

Since the war General Lee has given a distinct explanation 
of the motives which determined his action, and of the politi- 
cal theory on which he yet maintains the justification of the 
South. Resenting a report in the newspapers, that he had 
been " wheedled into the war," he said : — " So far as I know, 
the people of the South looked upon the action of the State 
in withdrawing itself from the Government of the United 
States as carrying the individuals of the State along with it ; 
that the State was responsible for the act, not the individuals, 
and that the ordinance of Secession so-called, or those acts of 
the State which recognized a condition of war between the 
State and the General Government stood as their justification 
for bearing arms against the Government of the United 
States." 

In the estimation of many, it is a slender and technical 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACT. 123 

tlieory on which General Lee holds his justification ; but no 
one can doubt the sincerity of the allegation. He has, also, 
since the war, explained that he thought it Avas " unnecessary, 
and might have been avoided, if forbearance and wisdom had 
been exercised on both sides :" but he denies that his own 
individual action was at all determined by the persuasions 
and intrigues of politicians. This is the true historical ex- 
planation given by General Lee himself of the vexed story 
of his choice in the war — a story which has had so many 
apocryphal versions and additions ; and the reader will proba- 
bly make the commentary on it, suggested from his own 
standpoint in the traditional controversy of State Eights, and 
drawn from his own chosen school of political opinion. 

In any view it must be confessed that, with respect to sel- 
fish consideration or worldly prudence, Lee's declination of 
the Federal service was undoubtedly pure. He spurned am- 
bition, the bribes of office, personal interest ; and while he 
appeared to hesitate at the outset of hostilities, it was only 
that his conscientious and introspective mind Avas anxious 
to discover the line of duty, as events developed it. The 
Secession of Yirginia left him, as he considered, no choice 
but to obey her commands and to assure her solicitations. In 
most of the Northern criticisms of his decision in this junc- 
ture, the fallacy of the petitio princijiii, ("begging the ques- 
tion ") has been ingeniously inserted in the charge that he 
showed a narrowness of mind in pleading a partiality for his 
State against his duty to the General Government, a mere 
local affection opposed to "loyalty." We certainly do not 
propose here to discuss the vexed subject of State Rights; 
and yet we must perceive that the criticism referred to, is 
logically unfair in ignoring that school of politics to which 
General Lee belonged;- and in which he had been taught, that 



124 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the Union was the creature of the States, that it had no mis- 
sion apart from their convenience, and no virtue but in rep- 
resenting tlieir interests. If this was an error it was yet an 
honest and traditional error, one which, for tliree generations, 
had included the best minds of the South, and had been 
illustrated by its most distinguished names. Admit tliat 
Lee was misled, and yet his error was not only unstained 
by selfishness, but a more generous one than his severe cen- 
sors have been willing to admit. 

He had been taught in his slight political education that 
the State was superior to the Federal Government in its 
claims upon the affections of the intelligent ; that it was the 
peculiar object of patriotism ; that it was the symbol of the 
Jove of country, rather than the Union which, in the estima- 
tion of the school of politics referred to, was the mere geo- 
graphical designation of a league created by the States, and 
designed for the benefit and pleasure of each. Thus think- 
ing, he went with Virginia in the war, and to her side of the 
contest. However he valued the Union, and saw no necessity 
for the Secession of his State, he felt bound to recognize it as 
that political community to which, as the original and only 
permanent element in the American system, his allegiance 
belonged ; as his home, around which the affections of the 
man naturally cling; astheabode of lamily and friends, where 
the protection of his arm and sword was due at the approach 
of danger. When standing in the State-house, he accepted the 
sword which the Convention of Virginia placed in his hand, 
he said, with memorable solemnity : " Trusting in Almiglity 
God, an approving conscience, and the aid of ni}- fellow-citi- 
zens, I devote m3^self to the service of my native State, in 
lohose behalf alone will I ever again draw the sword." 

The person of the commander-in-chief of Virginia was 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 125 

singularly noble, and at once inspired emotions. It has been 
thus described by this author, witnessing the scene of bestow- 
ing on him, in the State-house at Richmond, his iirst com- 
mand in Virginia: "Every spectator admired the personal 
appearance of the man, his dignified figure, his air of self- 
poised strength, and features in which shone the steady ani- 
mation of a consciousness of power, purpose, and position. 
He was in the full and hardy flush of ripe years and vigor- 
ous health. His figure was tall, its constituents well knit 
together; his head, well shaped and squarely built, gave in- 
dications of a powerful intellect ; a face not yet interlined by 
age, still remarkable for its personal beauty, was lighted up 
by eyes black in the shade, but brown in the full light, clear, 
benignant, but with a deep recess of light, a curtained fire in 
tliem that blazed in moments of excitement ; a countenance, 
the natural expression of which was gentle and benevolent, 
yet struck the beholder as masking an iron will. His man- 
ners .were at once grave and kindly; without gayety or 
abandon, he was also without the affectation of dignity. Such 
was the man whose stately figure, in the Capitol at Rich- 
mond, brought to mind the old race of Virginians, and who 
was thereafter to win the reputation, not only as the first 
commander, but also as the first gentleman of the South, 
the most perfect and beautiful model of manl\ood in the war. 
The first task imposed upon General Lee, after accepting a 
commission in the service of Virginia, was to organize the 
State forces, and tliat behn'c President Davis had brought up 
the effulgent front of the war from Montgomery to Rich- 
mond. He performed . this task most successfully. It has 
been well said of him, that lie made the reputation of a skil- 
ful organizer of armies before he commenced the career of 
active commander in the field. He sat almost daily in the 



126 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

Advisory Council of Virginia — a body, tlic secret history of 
vLicli was. that it had been raised by the Secessionists in the 
Convention to keep Avatch and check on Governor Letcher, 
and Avhich was no\v translated to the concern of equipping 
and preparing the State for war. So eft'ectually ^yas it done, 
that nearly fifty thousand men were in arms in Virginia to 
meet Mr. Davis in the month of May, 1861, and to shelter his 
government on its removal to Richmond, 

That removal had been resolved upon by President Dayis 
almost from the day it was known that Virginia had seceded. 
It has been said that he was secretly opposed to it, that he 
thought the seat of the government should not be so risked 
so near the enemy ; but, in his public expressions at least, he 
passionately advised it, and was eager to display the advance 
line of the Confederac}^ on the banks of the Potomac. On 
the 21st May, the IMcmtgomery Congress adjourned to meet 
in Richmond. Mr. Cobb, its presiding ofBcer, gave a curious 
explanation of its desire to advance to Richmond, and one 
ludicrous enough in the sequel. He said — " We have sent 
our soldiers on to the posts of danger, and we wanted to be 
there to aid and- counsel our brave ' boys.' In the progress 
of the war, further legislation may be necessary, and we will 
be there, that, when the hour of danger comes, we may lay 
aside the robes of legislation, buckle on the armor of tlie 
soldier, and do battle beside the brave ones who have volun- 
teered for the defence of our beloved St)uth." What proofs 
ensued of this flatulent patriotism and martial ardor of the 
Confederate legislators, remain to be told. 

The Confederate Government came to Richmond in a storm 
of popular applause, and with an exaltation of spirits almost 
indescribable. President Davis travelled through scenes of 
ovation. Every thing wore for him now the color of the 



SKCRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 127 

rose. None of those unhappy personal animosities that after- 
wards degraded his achninistration, had yet been developed ; 
and even Viee-President Stephens, who had not yet been in- 
volved in that quarrel with him which gave so much scandal 
to the Confederacy, thus spoke of the "coming man" : "His 
flag never yet trailed in the dust. This noble and true son 
of the South goes to Eichmond to take command, in person, 
of our soldiers there, and to lead them upon the battle-field." 
On the 20th of May, Mr. Davis was receiving the congratu- 
lations of his friends in Eichmond, and liaranguing a crowd 
from the balcony of the Spotswood Hotel. " Tlie President 
of the Six Nations," as he had been called at Montgomery, 
was now welcomed to accept an Empire extending from the 
Potomac to the Eio Grande. His first days in Eichmond 
were devoted to ovations, to patriotic exhortations, to re- 
views, and other animating displays. Some of the speeches 
were the finest of his life. He exhorted his hearers to re- 
member the dignity of the contest, and, leaving to the enemy 
the resources of plunderers and ruffians, to " smite the smiter 
with manly arms, as did our fathers before us." To the sol- 
diers, he declared he would lay down his civil office, and take 
command of tlie armies, should the extremity of the cause 
ever demand his sword ; and, on one occasion, speaking in an 
encampment at Eockett's, and turning his face to a regiment 
of South Carolina troops, he said, with grand emotion, " When 
the last lino of bayonets is levelled, I will be with you !" Tha 
public had not yet conceived the length and breadth of the 
contest — the great figure it was to make in history. Their 
notions of the war appeared to be circumscribed by the 
memories of Mexico ; and the crowd interrupted the august 
speaker, exclaiming, "Tell us something of Buena Vista!" 
Mr. Davis replied, "I can only say, we will make the battle- 



lilS LIFK OF JKFFKRSOX PAVIS, WITH A 

fields in Virginia anotlior Buona Vista, and dvonoh tlioui 
with blood more precious than that which llowed there. Wo 
will make a history tor ourselves. We do not ask that the 
past shall shed our lustre upon us, bright as our past has 
\ioen — ^Ibr we can achieve our own destiny. We may point 
to many a lield. over which has lloated the llag of our couu- 
trv. when wo were of the United States, upon which Southern 
soldiers and Southern olheers retlected their brave spirits in 
their deeds of daring ; and without intending to cast a shadow 
upon the courage of any portion of the United States, let mo 
call it to your remembrance, that no man who went from 
these Confederate States has ever yet. as a goncval otVicer, sur- 
rendered to an euemv."' 



HKCRKT IllS'l'Olcy OF THK CONFKI^KItAOT. 129 



CIlAP'IKli IX. 

H/<Hi'; A':o'/unt lit lh<! City (>fHMifn'm<i—A. I'rwlndal flity bnifw! tb« War— What ltJ( V-zy/r^tii/n 
tt» Caiillal of til'! ('/iuU:iU:rtu;</ r/mt It — Karly H<;(;tii',n of tho Wdr fri HU-.iniKinii — HrilDarit and 
P/ctiir'!«'/ii<> l)nyn — A f'o/tfwiwat*! Hz/I'llftr anrl a. Jylltl<! //uly — TJi'; /l<,-'l Ilirsr Mcfi — Karly 
Olamw f//r AKKn-.nnivn Wurfiim — Why it wm lnip<itiM\hli; at ThN Tlrii'- — " Or)-t'>-Wa«hlii;jt/<ri" — 
Jloracc <}rfAi\i;y waiifx Iho W(ip lAtiiiU-A Vi n. HUif^U; iiatth: — Th<! Or<;at Vif.-t'/ry of MnniuutiUi--~ 
Tfie Thrftft Htiiffim of th'j ISatths— l'rC'»tMr;rit )>avi» on the (^l«l(i — A C/UrlimH fMUreUmpt — ifow 
Mr, I^avlf* wa<« ill(iaj<i>(<iritc<l l>y Omu^h] linnnritunrd — Ifjutanwj (/f hlx J'w«ofial Coiitfitct on %h': 
yiftlil— A Ntght H^Kirifl at Ownwal Hnnurisnnrii'H Quarter* — Hirif(iilar K)«iirft of the I'nrnMent. 

V>KV()HK tlio war, Riclirnond was a very quiet city, of only 
inland importance, and of nirnplc provincial manners. It 
liad neither the extent, nor the variety of a metropolis; and 
if it, was at all deplorable that it liad but ihw of the displayH 
and excitements of such places, it was more than comforting 
tliat it liad none of their vices, Howdyism was almost un- 
known in it, and its whole police establishment coiisisted of 
about a do/en so-called "Watchmen," who had scarcely any 
otlier occupation than to confine the i'nw belate^l negroes, wlio 
were found on its streets after nine o'clock at night, in a de- 
cayed wooden building — a terror to truants and evil-doers — 
linder the name of " The Cage." '^Phcre v/ere no Police items 
for the newspapers, except what was furnished in the Mayor's 
Court, hy the fine of a few minor malefactors collected in 
'"^rhc Cage," or u dreary Ii,Ht,of negro vagabonds sent to the 
whipping-post, Kichmond hu'l no sensations — no fashionable 
dissipations — no alarming vices; it lived in an even, healthy 
atmosp}i(;re — perliaps the quietest of American cities — yet 
charming tlie traveller by the simplicity of its life, and de- 
taining liitfi \)y tlie abundant ho.spitality tliat circulated in its 
9 



hv>mo>^ It \x^v< o>tVt>« nv>tJot\\ jxs a oily w hvolv \\*ju<! as \vn\ar\«v« 
bW tl>v it* qux^t <M\ioY»«ouK^ ;^^^ tv>v its pubU^> owiov. *i\> tUo 
oouwtTYJwan vMf YiY^\«i«, w hv> v\5^\t\K^ tho ohioY oity v>f hi.s 
Suxio }x>rh«j\$ v>iKV {> Y<\^r. tv> v^>ll his o\\>|>. it w;^.'* t\ ^\^^\uU>rt\U 
juotA>poUs : auvi atW huviu^^ vliwvnl nt Zot\>\K>X rtuvl IvhoKi 
A* 1h> Wiowxi i)u> j^wnwnit v>f civiUjtaiion m\d luxiirv in IV\1^ 
lawVs KxolvAw^w ho \vtuvui\l homo tv> ivov>v\\\t it;^ j^i^iihtj* jwul 
his a^lvontttWi* tv> oi^v^o^^ v>t' j^i\\\j>h> \ij*to\\o»vu It i?*, iuvUhhI 
onriv>Uv^ uuvl {\iuui^i«g, whjvt privlo oC this svm1 a nuio {VA\vi \vn^ 
travolK\\ pov>plo t<\ko iu thoiv lavg^ inhwd tvnvus, U is 
v>no o*' tho tr!XvUtioUv>* of jvivvinoi^xl oilios, A»u\ thus, if ouo 
had said. sv>n\o ^^\vrs Ivxok. iu Virginia, thut U\o)»i\\o»\d w^s 
\>iu a hw^w oomfovti^Mo viUa^w o^viwjwtvd \vii)\ Now York. 
Bvvston, or Philav\olphia, Ivo \\\>uK\ porhn}.>s haw iixonrtwl tho 
sorious n^outuiout 5\Uko of tho TA>rvU ami Oonuwons of tho 
OKI Dv^miwion. 

Bvit> bottor for Riohuvoud had it novor «spi»\\) to inolnv 
poliiau dignity, or quittovi its gvxxi old habits of Virginia 
proviuoialisin, Tho k^to \v;\r fv^wnxl npon it an uu)\j\t»pY i»\\- 
portanoo. It l>rv>ught into a pUioo, tliat l\ad only oonvotxiontly 
hold abont forty thv^usand piH>pU\ a popnlatioi\ of at lo^vst 
ono hundivil and forty thousand. It \\>volutioniKod it^ n\rtn- 
noi^ to an oxtonr that only ;vn oKsorvor of tho oontrast oinild 
re^vliKO — mado ivf a hoalthl\d inland to\Y\), a brUUant, wiokovl 
motavpolis — ;\nd tnrmxl its quiot, shady stivot.s. liithorto nn« 
w^jovl of oivwds, into tho tlirobbing. tunmltuons avonuos of 
a o\"0\v\lod oapitak It mado this beautiful oitv. as l\v a vsi»\glo 
\voT\I <.\f connuand, tho unhappy o^\pital v>f tho ^onihorn Oo»\« 
tovloraoy, and tho bUxxly hatohblv>ck of tho war ! Tho Kiolb 
mond of 1S61, oould Jio longor bo nvv^gniaod ns iho l\ioh- 
mond of other days. It was as if ihoro had boon suvIkIouIy 
oallovl into oxisteiuw v>n tho bvnks of tho island dott^\l Jaiucs, 



HKCRKT lUU'WKY OF THK CONFKr/BHACY V'A 

a new, monwtroii ' " '^ty of fabU;, (]'-/-kcA with carnp.-;, and 

ar«#;na)«, and fui;. : jU of the bu.^tle and pictUTf>j(quenc«» 

<^>r f»rq>arat(on» for war — and te^jming with the new and »trange 
life that had taken pojtfWT^^ion, a» by magic, of the old land- 
mark}* and borders of a former pen'od. M ' ' -•)- 
dent» of Kicbmond would have regarde'i ' . .j.^- 
may and resentment, ha^J they not been eonsiolefl by the thought 
that their eity was* decorated by the chr/j^ of it sm the capital 
c/f the new Coui'f/h^rsu^y, and the ' ' ' ' vfi,r. 

In the advent of Mr. iMvi-? arr /, the qaiet 

capital (/f Virginia wa» quick to pat on the a»pect« of military 
life, the brilliant bnt harshly «ignificant ornaments of war. 
The hill.H on which it re»te/J, from the gentle ■ - /rth of 

the capital to the purred and »t^>ne-dccked ' . about 

\i<)<'M(Mh, ga»>»ed with »treak» rrf red clay, the tof>mo»t of 
them newly named "Chimbor^iJio" by the troops which occu- 
pie'l it, were dotted with tents of ?(oldier« ; and thcH^fj new 
and strange features of the s^y^ne, flw;ked the more distant 
landscape, stretched away on the table-lands, where the green 
c5om already wav^yl, or glanced in the thick foliage of the 
dells. The streets of the city were alive witTi new spectach;s. 
Cavaliers, with severe looks, paced through them — pictur- 
esque c/ynnam dashe^l to and frr>— the blare of military mtisic 
smote the ear, or die^l swe^.'fJy in the distance; — the click of 
artillery wagons — the tramp of regiments, moving compactly 
through the thoroughfares — mingled with the clatter and 
voice of tra/le. For miles around the city — in the forests of 
the young oak which gird Kichmorrd, where formerly nothing 
was heard but the iwhUiT of birds, or the wheezing of the 
wjuirrel, or perchance the dull chant of the Negro mr/ping 
through the underbrush for fjrewoo<l — were now the camps 
and bivouacs of the new soldiers, the woods alive with horses 



132 LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

aud men, and vocal with the blast of the bugle, the shrill 
neigh of the tethered charger, and the shout of the recruits, 
amusing themselves with games, not yet having commenced 
the terrible one of life and death in battle. 

These were brilliant and picturesque days for Eiehmond. 
None knew yet the dire realities, the sickness, the mutilation, 
the sufferings, and the injuries of war. They saw only its 
ornaments, its brilliant embroider}^, its dancing plumes, and 
its bright arms. But the Confederate papital was yet serious 
in its joy ; it had to pass through another stage, hereafter 
noticed, to become the most corrupt and licentious city south 
of the Potomac. For the present, there were no social 
diversions, none of those interludes of fashion and frivolity 
which happen in all great historical epochs — and even the 
common vices and dissipations which attend arinios, had not; 
caught up with the quick movement of the front into Vir- 
ginia. The ladies were busy in sewing societies making 
garments for soldiers ; and even the most frivolous of them 
found their time sufficiently occupied in manufacturing 
needle-cases, thread-bags, and forget-me-nots, for the sons 
of Mars. A lady of flxshion, but a most estimable one, hap- 
pened to propose, at one of the hotels, a dance to promote 
sociability, when she was silenced by exclamations of horror 
from her companions — " What, dance !" they cried, "when 
our brothers and husbands are courting death !" Yet, a few 
months later, there were balls enough in Richmond, besides 
worse festive occasions. 

At the time of which Ave write, an earnest pre-occupation 
Avith the war was the feature of society in Richmond. The 
garb of the civilian had become unfomiliar in tlie streets. 
These were filled with troops. On each night was heard the 
tramp of new arrivals ; and nearly every sun glanced on 



SFXFtET inSTOUY OF TIIIO COXFKDKUACy, 133 

bayonets in the thoroughfare, many of these bayonets bearing 
on them flowers bestowed by women, a garnish dress for that 
mnrderoas Bteel Avhich in all language is the symbol of war. 
The soldiers were welcomed, and feted, and lionized. The 
finest ladies in Richmond affected the dainty charity of 
baking bread in the camp of a South Carolina regiment. 
The reviews were attended by the most fashionable persons, 
and seldom a day passed, in the early summer of 180 1, when 
the ladies were not called to the windows to wave their hand- 
kerchiefs amid the huzzas of some newly-arrived regiment, 
making the streets gay with music and banners, and the new 
gilt equipage of war not yet tried or tarnished in the furnace 
of battle. 

The intermingling of the best ladies in Richmond with the 
soldiei'H was something curious. The usual routine of social 
life was abandoned, and a universal interest in the war broke 
down the barriers of sex as well as of class. Even those 
ladies most exclusively reared, who had formerly bristled with 
punctilios of propriety, admitted the right of any soldier to 
address them, to offer them attentions, and to escort them in 
the street. The ceremony of an introduction v/as not re- 
quired ; the uniform was sufficient as such ; it became a pledge 
of gallantry — and woe, in female estimation, to the unlucky 
wight who yet tarried in citizens' habiliments. It is an 
honor to these early soldiers of the Confederacy that not a 
single instance is known of their freedom of accosting the 
ladies of Richmond — a most dangerous liberty surely — Vjeing 
abused by an insult, or an indignity, or one improper word. 
On the other hand, the author knew of but one instance of 
displeasure at such liberty on the part of a lady — and that a 
very little lady. A child of eight years, who had already 
learned something of the usual manners of society, was 



134 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

sTiocked at the familiarity of a soldier wlio had presumed to 
caress her. Turning to her elderly companion, she exclaimed : 
— "Why, Aunt! any man that wears a stripe on his panta- 
loons thinks he can speak to any lady !" The little lady had 
not yet learned the significance of the soldier's uniform, and, 
considering the circumstances in which it was donned, its 
persuasive power in the eyes of her sex. 

In the first collection of troops in and around Richmond it 
was interesting to notice some of the early peculiarities of the 
Confederate soldier. ISTearly every State of the South was 
represented by a regiment or more. The Hampton Legion 
from South Carolina, generally esteemed the flower of this 
first Army of Virginia, was renharkable for aristocratic 
material, and the luxurious habits of their camp. It is ludic- 
rous now — and especially in memory of the tatterdemallions 
of another period of the war, who walked barefoot through 
the snow and slush in front of the War Department — to 
think of privates going to the battle-field with trunks in tlie 
army baggage, and attended by body servants. The dress- 
parades of this regiment of gentlemen were the admiration 
and delight of Richmond ; and the elegant carriages that 
crowded the skirts of the manoeuvres were as gay and numer- 
ous as on a fashionable race-course. Ranged not fiir from 
this envied regiment were the hardier sons of Southern 
Chivalry, presenting, indeed, every variety of the Southern 
man. There were the Louisiana Zouave s, Wheat's command, 
small tough men with gleaming eyes — fierce-looking warri- 
ors from the soldier State of Mississippi — quaint and sinewy 
Arkansas riflemen— soldierly-looking Virginians and Geor- 
gians, singularly alike in their pliysical characteristics — 
grotesque and drawling North Carolina " tar-heels," who did 
not need this recommendation to stick — rude and dashing 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 135 

Texan Rangers, who had taken as a compliment General 
Taylor's remark in the Mexican war, that they were any 
thing hut gentlemen or cowards I To look at these various 
men, one would have been completely disabused of an idea 
then somewhat prevalent in the North, that the Southern sol- 
dier was deficient in physique. The caricature of Harjyers' 
Magazine of a sickly-looking Southerner carrying his musket 
under an umbrella and attended by a Negro with a cock-tail 
to replenish his strength, did not far outdo the popular notion. 
But probably in the Northern army it would have been im- 
possible to match the Red River men — a singular body of 
soldiers distinguished by this name in the early war, and 
coming from the northern portion of Louisiana and southern 
portion of Arkansas, in the neighborhood of the Red River. 
These men were easily singled out by their resemblance to 
each other, in extraordinary stature, in brawny and muscular 
development, and in evident powers of endurance. In a regi- 
ment of these men there was scarcely one under six feet, and 
with their massive shoulders and chests bearing not an ounce 
of superfluous flesh, they appeared, indeed, to stand as a living- 
wall to test the shocks of battle. 

In view of such a numerous and brilliant soldiery, it was 
natural that there should have sprung up a popular passion 
for warfare of the most aggressive kind. The first clamor in 
Richmond was for a war of invasion — a plan of campaign 
which should capture Washington, " the wallow of Lincoln 
and Scott," and plant its standairds of defiance on the territory 
of the North. The Richmond Examiner exclaimed : " From 
mountain top and valleys to the shores of the sea, there is 
one wild shout of fierce resolution to capture Washington 
City, at all and every human hazard !" 

But President Davis did well to set his face against that 



loG LIFE OF JEFFERSON JUVIS, WITH A 

sliout. For once at least his goverunieut was entirely right 
ill quelling the popular sentiment. It was not a mean and 
timid prudence that dictated a delensive Avarlare; and looking 
back now, in the light of history, upon that early clamor for 
a war of invasion, Ave can understand how irrational it was, 
and how wise the government was in its ellbrts to contain the 
impatience of a people suddenly called to arms, and having 
but little idea of what they had to encounter. The South 
had already done wonders. It was an agricultural people ; 
and that a })ooj>le thus contined should in three months after 
their organization as a nation been able to put such armies in 
the lield was a remarkable event ; but that they should be 
able in this time to enter upon a war of invasion against a 
commercial and manut'acturing people, greatly superior in 
numbers and resources, would have been an almost miracu- 
lous achievement. It takes the greatest and best equipped 
nations some time to get into actual war after they have de- 
clared it ; and when that war is one of invasion, the task of 
preparation becomes greatly more arduous and extended. 
The North with every facility to raise and equip an army, 
and, iudocd, possessing the army and navy ol' the nation 
when undivided, was yet \inablc to comnuMioe a movement 
of invasion until weeks after such a movement was asked on 
the part of the Confederate Government by the popular im- 
patience at Uichmond ; and even then the aftertUought of the 
experiment was that it had been hasty and premature. 
IIow then could the South, requiring an especial length of 
time to allow of concentration and national organization, 
fettered by agricultural pursuits, and destitute of all focilities 
for a strong and sustained elYort have undertaken a war of 
invasion at the time the cry of '" On-to- Washington" saluted 
the ears of a government not yet warm in its seat in 
Richmond ? 



SKCUKT ilJSTOUY UF TJIK CONFKDEllAGY, 1'.j7 

It WMS a most senseless ciy. Cireurnstanoes, and not JeOer- 
son Davis, determined the eliaracter oftlie war on tlie part ol' 
tlie Confederacy, and deeided tli:i,t it should he, in th(j m;iin, 
a defensive one. When, in his fir'st message to Congress, he 
liad said, "All we ask is to bo let alone," lie had spoken 
instinetiv(;ly tlie present and immediate want of the Sonth, 
'J'iine ill that emergency was tlie ordy source of life to the 
Confederacy ; and t(j extend the season of preparation was the 
care of renecting minds in opposition to the headlong passion 
of the multitude. 'V\\(; way government had actually nothing 
with which to clothe, ('([iii]* oi" move an aciiiy, unless it had 
been bought abroad and imported within its territory. How, 
in the face of such stark necessities, c(juld it have been ex- 
pected in so short a time to not only put a great war on foot, 
but t(j cany into the territ(n-y o[ an enemy thickly planted 
with military resources, and supericjr in every res[)ect of means 
and material ? 

The cry of " On-to-AVashington" found no serious response 
in the govenimcut at ItlchnKjiid. It was jjrobably scarcely 
more than the popular expression of a certain contemptuous 
spirit towards the enemy. Mr. Davis wanted all the time he 
could get for preparation ; Gcmeral Lee was near him to ad- 
vise that the war-sjiirit needed rather to be ([uieted ;iiid regu- 
lated than to be fui-ther inflamed; and when, at last, it was 
decided to give u]) Alexandria and Harper's l^'erry, and to 
withdraw the line of defence twenty or thirty miles south of 
the J^otomac, the wise thought the new gov(;rnrneiit had ven- 
tured far enough, although the troops showed something of 
dispirit and the newspapers had something to say of "the 
hateful current of retreat." 

But if there was such a (Mirrent of retreat, it was soon to 
turn with a brilliant crest. The siir^trise at i'hilip[)i, the 



138 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

afiair of Betliel, the operations of General Wise on Soary 
Creek, the bombardment of Pig's Point, and the disaster of 
Rich Mountain, made great figures in the newspapers when 
war was novel ; but the}' were, in fact, the slightest preludes 
to the contest that was to ensue, and scarcely deserved a 
breath of exclamation. On both sides there was great popu- 
lar anxiety for a general battle, to determine the question of 
relative manhood ; and especially on the side of the South, 
from an impression that one distinct and large combat result- 
ing in its favor, and showing conspicuously its superior valor 
would alarm the North sufficiently to make it abandon the 
war. This impression had been especially given from the 
New York Tribune, which was supposed to represent at that 
time, more than any otl:er journal, the temper of the North. 
The readers of this paper at this day appear scarcely to recol- 
lect a remarkable, studious article in which in the month of 
Jul}^ 1861, Mr. Horace Greeley wrote or dictated to the effect 
that the North was averse to any thing like prolonged war, 
that it would not tolerate such a supposition, that it desired 
an early determination of the contest, to such an extent that 
if its troops were fairly defeated in one open field, man to 
man, he would pledge it to retire with good grace and to sur- 
render the contest !* 

A field for the grand duello was soon found ; the question 

* Thus the Trihune of the 19th of July, ISGl, says :— " "We have been 
most anxious that this struggle should be submitted at the earliest 
moment to the ordeal of a fair decisive battle. Give the Unionists a 
fair field, equal weapons and equal numbers, and we ask no moi-e. 
Should the Eebel forces at all justify the vaunts of their journalistic 
trumpeters we shall candidly admit the fact. If they can beat dou- 
ble the number of Unionists, they can end the struggle on their own 
terms." 



SECRKT HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 139 

of relative manhood was brought fairly to the test; the battle 
of Manassas was fought — with what sequel, in contradiction^ 
of Mr. Greeley's pledge, the world now knows. 

Here the South won the first great victory of her arms ; 
and although varying fortunes followed this event, and disas- 
ters, which never came from lack of Southern valor lurked in 
the sequel — although the South afterwards sunk \mder vast 
accumulations of the enemy's power, but not until the cour- 
age of her soldiers, which blood had never quenched, had 
been beaten down by the iron heel of numbers — yet it is a 
grand consolation that the glory of Manassas is her "posses- 
sion forever," that it can never be expunged from the page 
of history, or diminished by the utmost ingenuity or zeal of 
falsehood. Tlie whole world knows this day ; and although 
it may have kept blurred and indistinct recollections of other 
periods and scenes of the war, it is remarkable how full and 
faithful and vivid is the memory it has retained of the drama 
of Manassas. 

There is less perhaps of confusion, and conflict of evidence, 
as to the numbers displayed on the field, and the incidents of 
the combat, than in the case of any other battle of the war. 
It is agreed that McDowell attempted his plan of battle with 
a force in motion of forty thousand, regulars and volunteers, 
against a force actually engaged of only fifteen thousand vol- 
unteers. We mean to say, that only fifteen thousand Confede- 
rate troops were at any one time engaged in the battle. When 
the column of attack first descended from Sudley Ford, only 
fi.ve Confederate regiments and six guns breasted it ; and it 
was here that Jackson raised his crest, as the bristling Fed- 
eral battalions came on, and, like Coleridge's Ancient Mari- 
ner, "held with glittering eye " the maddened retreat. Again 
the scene shifts, to the plateau of the Henry House ; and here 



140 LIFK OF JKFFKRSOX DAVIS, M'lTll A 

(wc speak exactly from (.leueral 'Beauregard's olVioial report,) 
G500 witlistootl llio onset. "It was tlieii," says CieiuM'al iM^aure- 
gard, "I urged tlie men to the resolution t)l' victory, or death 
on the iiekV — a modest re})ort of the speech ho made \vhen 
leaping- from his foaming horse; his spirit bh\zed out in woi'ds 
of remembered eloquence, and he pointed his shining sword 
to the path Avhere he had ''come to ilie."' "Then," coulinues 
Beauregard, " I I'clt assured of the unconquerable spirit of 
that army, which wouhl enable us to wrench victory from the 
Lost thiui threatening us with destrui'lion." The plateau is 
won, and the third and liiial scene rises in succession. Here, 
with the reinforcements o\^ Kii'by Smith and Klzoy, with the 
line oi' the Confederates fully developed, k>ss than tilteeu 
thousand men prepare^ for the ilnal action of the day, while 
the enemy makes his second grand sweep by a still greater 
circiut. ,lust as he makes the bend to envelop the Confed- 
eraie left, the eonunaaid "d^'orward !" runs along its whole 
line, ^riie held is swejit as by a tempest — a great army is 
broken into a confused mass — its organization, its lil'e, gone in 
a moment! Aud half an hour later, Jackson, rising in his 
stii'rnps, and looking over iields where there is nothing but 
herds of I'ugitives, mutters, " Ciive me ten thousand men, aud 
1 will be in Washington to-night!" 

Such is the brief, dramatic story of the battle — at every 
IHiint of it, in each of its three critical stages, great superiority 
oi' the enemy's lorce ; a victory gained after tlie Confederate 
troo|w had been twice driven to the most desperate ex- 
tremity ; a crowning evidence of wluit valor may accomplish 
against the weight of uuiubers and the dis[>ositions of soience. 

In the morning of the eventfid day, President Davis had 
left llichmond for the held of battle, \yiiat carried him 
tliere was never explained. It was not — as President Lincoln, 



SKURIOT JilS'l'OltY OF 'I'llK COSh'EDKRACY. L41 

and other civil ma^istrutcH, ori(;ii did in l,li(! course of tlie 
war — to visit a field alrciidy dijcidcd, nnd to )'(!vi':w or incvli- 
tate upon it. TlHirc was, ind(U'd, a (;a,i'|)in<( c()inni(!ntai'y in 
liicdiniDiid, iliuL ri'csidcnl Davis sliouM have hcon ])res(;nl at 
Mana,ssus on tiiis d;i,y, and slioidd have Idl his of!l(;c at the 
capital to thiatst hiinscll' into a, s(;(ai(; oC actual hattle, and per- 
liaps to iiit(!if(;i'(! with tin; ( '(;id(;dci'a,tc (ujuirnandcrs. It was 
known only to those very intimate with him that hi; had left 
Kichrnond that inorning to cornniand, in p(;rson, the a,i'niy ; 
and hence tin; curious mistake whicli appeai-(;d in a,ll the 
iiewspapcjrs of tin; Soiitli next day, a,nd vvlii(;h the a,<^erit of 
the Associated i*ress had predi(;ated on what liad been whis- 
pei'cd to liim of tlie intentions of Mr. i)a,vis, that " tlie President 
commanded the centre" in the action of the day. Mr. Davis 
did not (;(^ii)inan<l the centre; he aj'i'ived t(Mj late lor the baJ,tle, 
and oidy when the enemy was dyin^;. it is said tliat he 
never forgave General Bca,uregard for this mrdrclcin.'pH, in. 
which liis vanity was so disappointed, and tliai, in this eircnm- 
stance originated his firsl- (lisafr(;etion towai'ds tha,t ccMn- 
mandcr, wliich was afterwanls carried to evcu-y exti'cniity of 
enraged persecution. However this may V)e, it is certain that 
General Beauregard had nevi;r notiri(;d the Pi'iisident of the 
time when he proposer! to give ba,ttle ; Ik; was under wo 
obligation to do so, and perhaps he suspected the int(;nti(jn of 
Ml'. Davis to lead his army into action. All Ik; was compcll(;d 
to do was to apply to the President for a,uthoiity for tla; army 
corps of General Johnston to join him, and it is positively 
known that this was the only intimation Mr. Davis had that 
a battle was to be deliv(;rcd. Jle arrived too late to take 
))ait in it, or to gath(;r the military laurc;! of which he liad 
dreamed the night before. Dut he did iKjt aiiivc; t<jo late to 
make some display of persf^nal heroism. 



142 LIFE OF JEFFERSON l^AVIS, WITH A 

He rode from the ears towards the sublime seene in whieh 
the battle had euhninated and broken on the horizon of even- 
ing. A eloud of smoke and dust had lifted from the plain 
and hung sullenly in the sk}- ; there was the distant elamor 
of battle ; the strokes of artillery, slow and ponderous, smote 
the. air: blaek masses of men. wavering, indistinguishable, 
bounded the strained vision and perplexed it. It was impos- 
sible to tell from a distance which army had won the da}'-, or 
what flags rode in the mixed scene. The President galloped 
forward to learn the state of the field. No one could, tell him 
amid the roar and confusion. As he rode swiftly through a 
stream of stragglers, it seemed as if he was in the midst of a 
retreat, breasting its bad and dusty current. At that moment 
his brother, Joseph Davis, galloped to his side, and said, " the 
day is lost; let us go no further." "No," said the President 
grandl}'-, "if the army is defeated so much the greater reason 
that I should be with my brave men and share their ftite." 
They were the words of a personal courage which notliing in 
his life ever turned or daunted ; — and they were perhaps re- 
membered when a distinguished son of Virginia recently re- 
viewing the leader of " the lost cause," declared briefly that 
he was a man who had had many favorable chances and who 
had attained greatness only iTom comparison with a race of 
political pigmies in Mississippi and the Southwest, and who, 
with all the advantages of fortune, had shcnvn but two virtues 
— a devoted espousal of his cause and " ijidomitable pluck." 

The scene changes from the grandeur and tumult of battle. 
The night has follen and the stars have risen above the combs 
of the Blue Eidge, now a dusky boundary of the wide plain. 
Jackson has gone to his tent, gloomy and reluctant, mutter- 
ing "it is not my office to advise the commander-in-chief to 
pursue." Before another tent, larger and more pretentious, 



SECRET IIIS'l'OliY OF TFIE COXFEDEIiAGY. 143 

above wliicli float in the night air the erablems of the South- 
ern Confederacy, a quiet, elderly gentleman is seated, clad in 
simple grey, his brows shaded by a felt hat of light color and 
ample dimensions, his mouth garnished with a fragrant cigar, 
evidently a person taking his ease and indulging self-compla- 
cency. This man is Jefferson Davis. There is a group of 
laced officers around hirn; General Beauregard sits among 
them ; and General Johnston comes and goes, sharing the light 
and desultory conversation, and anon retiring to perform 
some duty. Not a man speaks of pursuit of the enemy ; not 
one has conceived it. They speak of some incidents of the 
field; Mr. Davis inquires of some of his Mississippi friends; 
the conversation becomes general, of politics, of persons in 
Washington, of any thing else but the fugitive enemy ; there 
is an abandonment in tlie scone, and every one is disposed to 
be well pleased and sociable. A few miles further from this 
light recreation, there are great, broken masses of men in 
mad retreat,- the hum of their flight rising in the black hol- 
lowness of the night, panting,. struggling, pressing on in inex- 
tricable disorder, and yet with nothing at their heels but 
their own terrors. This is the Federal Army, the "Grand 
Army." It flies through the night; it makes its escape; it is 
already shivering on the banks of the Potomac ; while Jeffer- 
son Davis picturesquely smokes his cigar, strokes his neural- 
gic parts, and tells anecdotes at the door of General Beaure- 
gard's tent. 



IM LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTEK X. 

Tho South Intoxicated by the Victory of Manassas — AVho was Responsible for not Pursuing the 
Enemy to Washington — A Liirger and more Important Question tlian that — Tho True History 
ofaSecrotand Notable Council of War — President Davis Rejects the Advice of his Three Princi- 
pal Generals — He Decides for tho Policy of Dispersion or Prontier-Defence — A Glanco at tho 
Character of General Johnston — President Davis's Quarrel with Geueral Beauregard — An In- 
terval of Infamous Intrigues at Richmond — How Mr. Uuntor was Driven from tho Cabinet — 
Conceit of the President — "Waiting for Europe" — Demoralization of Inactive Armies — Rapid 
Corruption of Society in Richmond — "The Wickedest City" — Mr. Davis at a Fancy Dress Ball 
— Unpopular Conduct of his Wife — Anecdote of the President — Criticism of a " Tar Heel " — Mr. 
Davis and tho Faithful Sentinel of tho Libby Prison — A Historical Parallel' — Connubial Fondness 
of Mr. Davis — His Collection of Small and Mean Favorites — A Curious Sort of Obstinacy, 
and some Reflections thereon. 

The victory of Manassas was an intoxicating fruit for the 
South. It occasioned an excessive sense of false security on 
the part of the Confederacy, and was followed by a period of 
neglect and supineness in the military administration of the 
South, wherein it lost, not only all the advantages of this 
field, but nearly all the spirit and means it had for the 
contest. 

An over-busy attempt has been made to defend President 
J Davis against the charge, once popular, that he, by his supe- 
rior orders, had prevented his Generals from pursuing the 
enemy to Washington, or from making a forward movement 
immediately after the battle of Manassas. But this question 
as to what took place so shortly after the battle, is a narrow 
and particular one we scarcely need discuss ; it certainly does 
not cover the responsibility for that period of inaction and 
listlessness extending through several months, and in which 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 145 

the Confccleracy la})scd to the disastrous close of the first 
year of tlie war. The true inquiry is as to tlie responsibility 
for a ])eriod of supine administration so long, in which the 
South came nigh to ruin, rather than as to the delin- 
quency of a few days in which it lost the fruits of a single 
field. 

Months passed, in which the main army of "Virginia re- 
mained without any general action or movement, rusting 
in idleness, a huge victim of ennui, occupying a filthy and 
unhealthy camp, and sacrificing more men to disease than 
had fallen by the bullets of Manassas. Nothing wa?t done 
practically to replenish it ; nothing was done to restore its 
animation ; it was fast sinking into demoralization, and was 
wasting to a skeleton organization, as destitute of spirit as of 
substance. There were no preparations even to match the 
sounding and elaborate ones of the enemy for a renewed 
campaign. In vain, the newspapers clamored for some 
action, or sought to awake the Governmerit either from a 
lethargic indifference, or the stupid joys of a blind and exces- 
sive confidence. The golden days of autumn passed without 
any improvement of the military situation. "Besides some 
partial affairs of arms and a brilliant campaign in Missouri, 
the latter too exceptional and distant to affect the general 
fortunes of the war — the main armies of the Confederacy re- 
mained idle to the close of the year, and appeared to rest on 
the idea that the main task of fighting was over, and that 
the fruit of Southern independence was to drop with the 
snows of winter. 

It has been said, that President Davis was in favor of an 
advance movement; was not a willing party to the fatal in- 
action of the Confederate troops, that ensued for months aftei 
Manassas. There has been much recrimination on the sub- 
10 



146 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

ject as between him and his Generals, and much has been 
written, in a confused and disputatious way, of the causes 
which compelled the military barrenness of the latter half 
of the first year of the war. But the truth of this matter, we 
are persuaded, is to be found in the secret history of a certain 
notable council of war, accounts of which never appeared in 
the newspapers, and the esistence of which was, for a long 
time, unknown. If President Davis was really in favor of 
an active campaign after Manassas, he had but a poor way 
of showing it. If he really did favor a forward move- 
ment, he yet wantonly and deliberately destroyed the con- 
ditions in which such a movement might take place ; and 
it is but a poor rule of responsibility that does not impose 
upon a person the foreseen, necessary, and obvious results of 
his own action. 

The council referred to, was held some weeks after the 
battle of Manassas, when President Davis was on a visit to 
the headquarters of the army. General Johnston then sub- 
mitted a plan illustrating the value of concentration, and 
proposing it as a preliminary for an aggressive campaign. 
He was sustained in his views by Generals Beauregard and 
G. W. Smith. These Generals urged the immediate concen- 
tration in that quarter of the greater part of the forces dis- 
]>ersed along the sea-coast at Pensacola, Savannah, Norfolk, 
Yorktown, and Fredericksburg, with which, added to the troops 
already in hand, a campaign across the Potomac should be ini- 
tiated, before Gen. McClellan had completed the organization 
of his grand army. This, they believed, might be done with- 
out risk to the positions weakened by the measure — though, in 
fact, the principles of the art of war prescribed that places of 
such relative military unimportance should be sacrificed or 
hazarded for the sake of the vital advantage anticipated. A 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 147 

very considerable army could have been thus assembled— 
larger, perhaps, than either of those which subsequently 
General Lee was able to lead across the border under much 
less favorable military conditions. But the President could 
not be induced to sanction the measure, or to give up a con- 
ceit with which he commenced the war, and which was only 
wrung from him many months later by the force of fearful 
disasters. 

That conceit which he placed in opposition to General 
Johnston's policy of concentration— a policy that would have 
afibrded an aggressive campaign and an immediate forward 
movement across the Potomac— was to defend the entire 
frontier of the Southern Confederacy, and to give up no foot 
of its soil to the invader. There was something high-sound- 
ing in such a resolution ; it was a bravado to affect the 
masses, a rhetorical afflatus about the integrity of "sacred 
soil," and the "polluting steps " of invading armies; and it 
was that idea which might be expected from one who was 
more a politician than a General, and who calculated that if 
he uncovered any part of the South he would provoke, from 
that quarter, a clamor against his administration, and that to 
have all the people of the Confederacy satisfied he must protect 
them all alike. But it was the wretched policy of disj^ersion— 
that policy that strung the armies of the Confederacy on 
every imaginable line of defence, that wasted the resources ' 
of the South in the attempted defence of every threatened po- 
sition, and that was abandoned by President Davis only 
when, after a trial of six months to cover the "sacred soil " 
of the South, he was forced to confess that " events have de- 
monstrated that the Government had attempted more than it 
had power successfully to achieve." But this was the slow 
lesson coming only after disaster, and only when the Cou- 



143 LIFK OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

federacv was trembling under a catastrophe ^yluch the Presi- 
dent's policy of dispersion had precipitated. In the council 
referred to, it Avas impossible to bring him to reason, and all 
the aro-uments of General Johnston had no effect. This com 
mander pointed to clear and firm principles of military science. 
He aro-ued the value of the concentration of forces in war ; that 
such concentration was, indeed, the condition of vigorous 
war, the necessary means of striking the enemy with effect, 
and makino- decisive fields. The President heard him with 
impatience, dismissed the council, adhered to the military 
situation, as it then existed, and declined, as he suggested to 
a friend, to wound any further the sensibilities of the States 
further South, by bringing any more troops to Virginia; 

If. afterwards, he did expect General Johnston to move 
across the Potomac, that commander did right to disappoint 
him, and was even excusable for something of sullen reticence 
which he ever afterwards maintained concerning his plans. 
The President's policy of disj^ersion decided against an aggres- 
sive campaign for 1861. It Avas the true logical cause of that 
inaction which ensued after the battle of Manassas, and in 
which the spirit of the army declined ; in which the resources 
of the South rotted in idleness; and in which the folse idea 
Avas insinuated in the public mind, that the war had been vir- 
tually decided, and that nothing remained but such scattered 
and desultory affairs as were then taking place ini Western 
Virginia and Southern j\[issouri. 

The radical disagreement between Mr. Davis and the 
Generals at Manassas, appears to have founded his first dislike 
of Johnston, and to have developed his tendency to imperi- 
ous and envious command. Johnston was never a very 
popular commander in the South ; he Avas not understood by 
the masses, and even to this day, his reputation is severely 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDEliACY. 149 

canvassed. IIo had not tliat turbulence and passion remarka- 
ble among tlie most popular leaders in the early stages of the 
war; he was disposed to chasten the coiiiidence of the Soiitli; 
and although his severe and cold military judgment and his 
sedate calculations gained for him the appreciation of the in- 
telligent few, there were many people in the Confederacy 
who condemned him as tame, who interpreted his precision 
as timidity, and who treated with suspicion and innuendo his 
opposition to Mr. Davis's policy of frontier defence. In his 
aversion to Johnston, the President was for a long time sus- 
tained by an ignorant populace. They did not care to inquire 
how much there was of personal malice in the quarrel, as 
long as the President did not offend one of their favorites, 
and as long as the victim was a patient, silent man, who cared 
nothing for popular sympathy or support, and did nothing to 
excite or entreat them. But when Mr. Davis went further, 
gave additional proofs of his temper, and broke with General 
Beauregard, a commander who was thoi prime military favor- 
ite of the South, who had a temper of his own, and who had 
such a sensitive regard for public opinion as to commit the 
un-offi.cerlike act of writing letters in the newspapers, the 
quarrel attracted attention thi-ough the length and breadth of 
the South, was carried into Congress, actually created two 
parties in the Confederacy, and occasioned, indeed, the first 
serious fluctuation of public confidence in the administration 
of Mr. Davis. 

The people were suddenly awakened to the regard of a 
trait of character in the President which had heretofore been 
concealed by the lacquer of his fine accomplishments, and 
which now gaped to view at tlic first strain {)ut on his vanity. 
It was seen that he had an enormous conceit from the moment 
he became inflated with the victory of Manassas, and consid- 



I.IO LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

ered his tenure of office secure from that day. The fact is, that 
that victory became the signal for political intrig'ues, in which 
all care for the war seemed to be dismissed for an anxiety to 
secure the offices and patronage of a government as already 
iirmly seated. It Avas the most indecent interlude of the 
Avar. Already politicians commenced to fish for nominations 
under the "permanent" Constitution Avhich was shortly to be 
inaugurated, and it Avas Avhispered to Mr. Davis that General 
Beauregard Avas courting the vote of the army for the office 
of President, and Avas undermining him in popularity. To 
the alarm and grieved surprise of all his judicious friends, 
Mr. Davis suddenly undoi'took a series of political proscrip- 
tions in the midst of Avar, planted his quarrel Avith General 
Beauregard in Congress, drove Mr. Huntei-, the man of great- 
est Aveight in his administration, from his Cabinet, and stocked 
the public offices Avith creatures of his fiivor, Avho Avere rather 
calculated to support him on some issue of political party 
than to render any service in the prosecution of the Avar. It 
seemed for AA^eeks and even months that the Avar Avas forgot- 
ten, or had sunk to the mere ordinary concern of the adjust- 
ment by politicians of a ncAV government. The topic in 
Kichmond Avas no longer battles and moA^ements of armies, 
but the doings of politicians and the latest gossip about the 
President's quarrels. It Avas reported to the disadvantage of 
;Mr. Hunter that he had voluntarily left the Cabinet to disem- 
barrass himself for a nomination for President, as against Mr. 
Davis ; but he replied unequivocally enough that he had re- 
signed because he had Avished to be Secretary of State, and 
Avas not content to be "the clerk of Jeflbrson Davis." The 
truth Avas, there had been a disgraceful quarrel in the Cabinet, 
and Avhen Mr. Hunter had offered some advice about the con- 
duct of the war, Mr. Davis had said with a flushed and al- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 151 

most insolent manner : " Mr. Hunter, you are Secretary of 
State, and when information is wanted of tliat particular de- 
partment, it will be time for you to s})eak." The spirited 
Virginian next day sent in his resignation. Almost in the very 
outset of his career, and at what should have been the sharp- 
est crisis of the war. President Davis found himself in the 
situation of having quarreled with his principal General in 
the field, of having dismissed the premier of his Administra- 
tion, and of having risked a trial of public confidence greater 
than other Presidents, even in times of peace, and after a con- 
siderable term of popularity, have been willing to undertake. 

The interval after Manassas in which took place these 
political intrigues and these displays of the President's tem- 
per, appears almost as one of insanity when we consider the 
thoughtless and arrogant security with which Mr, Davis as- 
serted his power, and counted the victims of his offended 
vanity. He either folded his arms idly in the face of the 
war — "waiting for Europe" as Mr. Benjamin expressed it, 
with the perpetual smile that basked on his Jewish lips — or 
he did worse in inspiring from his official position the popu- 
lar sentiment of security, with a contemptuous regard for the 
enemy. It was a luxurious conceit. It not only impaired all the 
true interests of the Confederacy, but it bred the innumerable 
evils which exist where there is a state of war, without the 
action of troops, where armies are kept in ostentatious idle- 
ness, and where society in such unnatural and excited condi- 
tion unemployed by the interest which grows out of active 
cimpaigns, finds its passions turned upon itself, and becomes 
infested with a thousand vices. 

Such results were seen in the South. After Manassas, the 
capital of the Confederacy was given up to a licentious joy 
and dissipation. These, although the President might not 



152 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DATIS, TVITH A 

liave shared, he jet promoted by liis own disposition to tri- 
umph in the present, and to be indifferent of the future. It 
Avas in this time that Eichmond made that reputation of moral 
infamy, which marred whatever military glories it afterwards 
won — a reputation which has not only lasted, but has accumu- 
lated since the war, which in fact has suggested the title of 
''the ivicJcedest city^^ in America for a place where the houses 
on the best streets are shops of female infamy, and where in 
nearly every court there is kept behind the drapery of justice 
an auction-block for bribes. In the early months of the 
war Eichmond won the bad eminence that has since made it 
a name of scorn in the world. The decoration of being the 
capital of the Confederacy — which its citizens had at first so 
hio'hly valued — cost it dearly enouo-h. It was the convenient 
cloak by which entered into a formerly quiet and moral city 
all the vices which follow in the train of war. The vultures 
were soon gathered at the carcass. With the imposing and 
grand displays of war came vices and dissipations heretofore 
unknown in Eichmond ; various flocks of villains, adventurers, 
gamblers, harlots, thieves in uniform, thugs, "tigers," and 
nondescripts. The city Avas soon overrun with rowdyism. 
The coarse vices of the street, however, were even less deplora- 
ble than those which affected a certain refinement, and inva- 
ded the higher ranks of society with that style of immoral 
and fantastic luxury bred out of the vast expenditures, the 
reckless passions, and the heedless self-gratifications in a state 
of war. The sobriety of Old Yirginia society gave way 
completely to a new order of reckless, social amuse- 
ments in which money Avas spent with a lavishness that 
taxed fancy, and a recklessness that scorned the morrow. 
As the war advanced, poverty and suffering, of course, 
came into many doors, and the world has heard much his- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 153 

torically of the distress in Richmond ; but it is remarkable 
of this city that, even to the last extremity of the war, when 
there were hundreds of people on its streets wanting broad, 
there yet constantly resided in it a wild fantastic luxury, 
pouring out money in every extravagant fancy of wickedness 
and vice. 

The gamblers reaped a harvest that will probably never 
be told. A few months after the commencement of the war, 
a Richmond newspaper stated that twenty gambling-houses 
might be counted in three or four blocks on Main street. 
There was abundant gossip of almost fabulous sums lost in 
these places, by quartermasters, commissaries, and pay-agents. 
And in these "hells" were, doubtless, concealed the traces of 
that immense amount of defalcation in the Confederate ad- 
ministration, which has never yet been told of but in broken 
and imperfect whispers. In every war, the frauds and pecu- 
lations of disbursing of&cers make a large amount ; and it is 
curious, that no reference to this loss — busily investigated as 
it was b}^ the North, on her side, in the late contest — was 
ever made, in any public manner, in the case of the Southern 
Confederacy, There was a vague impression of the people 
of the South, that there was an enormous amount to be cred- 
ited to this account ; and towards the end of the war there 
was an uneasy report that the proportions of such fraud 
Avould stagger belief, and that the discovery would tertninate 
the last breath of popular confidence in the Davis govern- 
ment. 

While the war lagged, Richmond enjoyed high carnival. 
There were extravagant social diversions — balls, parties, 
tableaus, and nondescript revels of wanton and excessive 
luxury. Curiously enough, considering the historical want 
of clothing in the Confederacy, fancy-dress balls were the 



154: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

social rage iu Eichmond. At one of these, a beautiful 
blonde, from Baltimore, impersonateel "M3- Maryland," her 
slender wrists bound behind her back with miniature chains ; 
and at the height of the festive excitement, the President of 
the Confederacy essayed a historical tableau, approaching the 
lad}^ and relieving her of her bonds, amid the acclamations 
of the revellers. The old staid society of Richmond was 
overrun ; and mad, wild, social diversions in the Confederate 
capital recked nothing, and reflected nothing of the suffer- 
ino-s, and toils, and mutilations of war. 

Amid the frivolities and vicissitudes of Eichmond society, 
so early in the war, Mrs. Jefferson Davis was conspicuous for 
an attempt to introduce into them something of the manners 
and etiquette she had imported from certain circles in "Wash- 
ington ; but it proved not onl}^ an ignominious failure, but 
an unpleasant scandal. The Confederate President himself, 
although recluse and haught}^ in his government, was demo- 
cratic enough in his personal habits, simple in his social 
tastes, and plain, and accessible to the populace. But Mr. 
Davis was the most uxorious of men ; and it was surprising, 
indeed, that a man of his fine nervous organism, a very tj-pe 
of social dilletantism, should have fallen so much under the 
dominion of a woman, who was excessively coarse and physi- 
cal in her person, and in whom the defects of nature had 
been repaired neither by the grace of manners nor the charms 
of conversation. Mrs. Davis was a brawn}', able-bodied 
woman, wlio had much more of masculine mettle than of 
feminine grace. Her complexion was tawny, even to the 
point of mulattoisin ; a woman loud and coarse in her man- 
ners ; full of social self-assertion ; not the one of her sex who 
would have been supposed to win the deference of a delicate 
man like Mr. Davis, whimsical iu his health, a victim of 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 155 

"nerves," nice and morbid in liis social tastes, altliougli she 
might well have conquered the submission of such a creature 
by the force of her character. Mr. Davis deferred to her in 
the social regulations she would impose upon Richmond. 
She demanded the etiquette of Washington, that the Presi- 
dent's lady should return no calls. She introduced Avhat 
were unknown in Richmond, liveried servants ; and, when 
every horse was impressed in the military service, tlie citi- 
zens, forced to go afoot, remarked, with some disdain, the 
elegant equipage of Mrs. Davis, that paused much more be- 
fore the shops of Main street, than the aristocratic residences 
of Grace and Franklin. 

Mr. Davis himself was simple and democratic in his habits. 
His figure, habitually clothed in Confederate grey, was famil- 
iar on the streets, or might be seen almost every evening 
mounted on the rather mean horse on which he took regular 
exercise. He invited the approach and freedom of the com- 
monest men, but sometimes to the disadvantage of his dignity. 

A number of stories were told in Richmond of his curiously 
free intercourse with his soldiers, although they lacked some- 
thing of the Napoleonic tradition. Once, when he was cross- 
ing the Capitol Square, a drunken North Carolina soldier 
stopped him, and inquired, " Say, mister, be'ent you Jefferson 
Davis?" "Sir," returned the President, "that is my name." 
"I thought so," replied tar-heel, "you look so much like a 
Confederate postage stamp." Another occasion was more 
dramatic. The President was returning with Mrs. Davis from 
one of the customary festivities on a flag of truce boat that 
had come up the James; walking the street in the night, un- 
attended by his staff, and Avith no indications of his import- 
ance, he had to pass the front of the Libby Prison, where a 
sentinel paced, and, according to his orders, forced passengers 



156 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

from the sidewalk to take the middle of the street. As the 
President, with his wife on his arm, approached him, he 
ordered them off the pavement. " I am the President," replied 
Mr. Davis ; "allow us to pass." "None of your gammon," 
replied the soldier, bringing his musket to liis shoulder; "'if 
you don't get into the street I'll blow the top of your head 
off." " But I am Jefferson Davis, man — I am your President 
— no more of your insolence ;" and the President pressed for- 
Avard. He was rudely thrust back, and in a moment he liad 
drawn a sword or dagger- concealed in his cane, and was 
about to rush on the insolent sentinel, when Mrs. Davis flung 
herself between the strange combatants, and by her screams 
aroused the officer of the guard. Explanations were made 
and the President went safely home. But, instead of the 
traditional reward to the faithful sentry, that has usually 
graced such romantic adventures, came an order next day to 
the Libby to degrade the soldier, and give him a taste of 
bread and water for his unwitting insult of the connnander-in- 
chief of the Confederate armies. 

The connubial fondness of President Davis suggests the 
story of Kienzi the Last of the Eoman Tribunes; only the 
Nina of the Southern Tribune was a very plain and unqueenly 
body. The strong resemblance of the character of Jefferson 
Davis to that drawn b}^ Gibbon of the man who attempted to 
restore the o'lories of Rome — the eleo-ant orator, the weak 
statesman, the doting and sentimental husband, the ruler 
haughty and authoritative, 3'-et governed by woman and small 
favorites, the man eloquent and gaud\^ in the forum, yet con- 
senting to escape from the ruins of his capital in the disguise 
of a baker, blessed by every fortune, and yet blindfolded, 
misguided and ruined by a conceit that affected humilit}^ and 
an obstinacy that was really the disguise of weakness. It is 



SKCKET IIISTOKY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 157 

not the place here to fill the parallel The suggestion is only 
of that singular Ayeakness to be observed in the ingenious 
history of many notable rulers, wlio, obstinate to the general 
public, flinty and imperious, have yet been secretly governed 
by women, jesters and fools. No one could be apparently 
firmer than Mr. Davis in his public intercourse ; no one could 
resent advice with greater disdain, or chill it with colder 
courtesy, when offered by the best and wisest men in the 
South ; and yet this man who could set his face as flint against 
the counsels of the intelligent, was- as wax in the hands of his 
wife, and the easy prey of the most unworthy adventurers 
who understood the approaches to his favor. It is a curious 
fact that the harshest and most tyrannical rulers have gener- 
ally been controlled by a few mean favorites, the intriguers 
of a seraglio or the parasites of a court. Such weakness Mr. 
Davis sadly illustrated. Inflexible to the counsels of Con- 
gress and his Cabinet, lofty and cold in his public intercourse, 
he was yet ready to make a quarrel of State for the whim or 
distemper of his wife, or to take into his political household 
the most contemptible of lickspittles. lie was constantly 
imposed upon by "confidence-men;" he was susceptible to 
women, preachers and adventurers; he had for a long time 
as chief-of-staft" a newspaper-reporter who had flattered him 
in Washington, and who boasted that he was the fruit of the 
liason of a member of the English nobility ; and the immedi- 
ate patronage of his office was eat up by small and unprofita- 
ble knaves who knew how to amuse his vanity and seduce 
his favors. The man who could remove the most important 
officer in his government — his Quartermaster-General — be- 
cause a lemalo member of the fim:!ily of the latter had pre- 
sumcid to ciiticise Mrs. Davis's figure ; who was pleased with 
the veriest jaeks-in-office, and would take tribute to his vanity 



158 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

in the smallest coin ; who gave himself up to social frivolities 
in the midst of a great war, and amused himself with intrigues 
and shows in Eichrnond when the enemy was making his 
vastest preparations, Avas clearly not the one to rule and direct 
the struggle of eight millions of people in a cause of life or 
death. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 159 



CHAPTER XI. 

President Davis playing the Adoi'ned Conqueror — Decay of the Confederacy — Review of the 
Military Situation — Share of Congress in the Maladministration of Mr. Davis — Weak and 
Infamous Character of that Body— How it Expelled the Best Intellect of the South — A 
Notable llulo against Military Offlcers — How the Political Affairs of tlie Confederacy wore 
Entirely Surrendered to Mr. Davis and his Party— Two Measures that Brought the South 
to the Brink of Ruin — The Army of Virginia almost Disbanded — Protests of Generals John- 
ston and Beauregard — The Civil or Internal Administration of Mr. Davis — Its Intellectual 
Barrenness — Not One Act of Statesmanship in the Whole History of the Confederacy — Rich- 
mond a Reflex of Washington — A Now Rule by which to Measure Mr. Davis's Responsibility 
— A Literary Dyspeptic, with more Ink than Blood in his Veins — Comi)laints Breaking Out 
Against Mr. Davis — Ilis Vaunt of the Blockade as a Blessing in Disguise — Dethronement of 
King Cotton — Extreme Scarcity of Arms at the South. 

"While Richmond was captivated by social diversions, 
wliile the South basked in a false security, and while Mr. 
Davis was intoxicated witli the sweets of power, and playing 
the adorned conqueror in his capital, the real interests of the 
Confederacy were going fast to wreck and ruin. Not only 
was nothing done to meet the vast preparations upon which 
the enemy had visibly entered, but the means of the Con- 
federacy were not even kept up to the standard which they 
had attained before the battle of Manassas. Mr. Davis's 
policy of dispersion had kept the whole frontier of the war 
dull and almost barren, until the blows of the enemy, in the 
opening months of 1862, carried away two thin sections of 
defence — one on the seacoast, and the other in the West — ■ 
and showed how false was the system tha't relied on the 
J.ength, rather than the breadth of its defences. To the close 
of the year 1861, the Cc^nfederacy was in a rapid decline, and 



160 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WLTH A 

only when the disease passed its stage of fluslied conceahiient, 
was the discoveiy made that it was ahnost in the agonies of 
death 

The campaign in Western Virginia, had ended in disaster, 
and had surrendered an important territory. All that Price 
had achieved in Missouri had been given up at the last, and 
an army, in which there was no discipline, was rapidly pass 
ing through his fingers. Tlie action of Leesburg, or Ball'fi 
Bluff, had been but a brilliant episode and a fruitless glory. 
There were, reall}^, no military results for the South at the 
end of the year, no positive acquisitions; while, on the other 
hand, her means had been diminished, her morale impaired, 
and her resolution relaxed in that interval of negligent re- 
pose into which the public confidence had been drugged after 
the battle of Manassas. 

In writing of the dereliction of the Confederate Govern- 
ment within the period referred to in the preceding chapter, 
it may be thought strange that wo have not drawn into the 
account some notice of Congress, and distributed upon it some 
of the responsibility for the decay of Confederate affairs in 
the first year of the war. But an especial explanation at- 
taches here. "We may, at once, remark upon the utter 
inanity of that body which made a pretence of performing 
legislative duties during the war; and if the Confederate 
Congress has been sunk nearly out of sight in all historical 
notices of the contest, it is because of the meagre and unim- 
portant part it performed in it. What was known as the 
Provisional Congress, was reall}^ the most inane, unimportant, 
incompetent and barren of public assemblies. It was com- 
posed of delegates sent to Moutgomer}^, and afterwards to 
Richmond, by tlie diilerent State Conventions, as they re- 
spectively passed ordinances of secession. It had been de- 



SECRET HISTOKY OF THE CONFEDEllACY. 161 

signed as a revolutionary couneil, rather than as a reguhir 
legislative body. It was a national assembly, but with the 
defect, that, instead of being the fresh and immediate repre- 
sentatives of the popular will, it was the secondary and weak 
creature of conventions. 

Yet, it contained some distinguished names ; and, when 
first organized, there was considerable weight of character in 
it. Ilowell Cobb, of Georgia, was its President. All the 
Heads of the Executive Departments had seats in it, and par- 
ticipated in its debates. Among its members, were naturally 
those politicians who had formerly distinguished themselves 
at Washington, in leading, from there, the first movements 
of Secession — such as Toombs, Wigfall, Pryor, and Keitt. 
But, a single measure expelled from Congress nearly all it 
had of worth and talents, and, in a day, reduced it to an inane 
body of mediocrities. Its most distinguished members had 
also military commissions ; they were Generals, colonels, etc., 
as well as legislators. It was a time when the most brilliant 
and ambitious men of the South sought the field, and pre- 
ferred its honors ; and when, a few weeks after the first ses- 
sion of Congress in Eichmond, the objection was raised, that 
the two careers were incompatible, and that members of Con- 
gress could not hold military commissions, the decision drove 
from it nearly every man of merit or note. Military men, 
who had come down from Manassas to take their places in 
Congress, and who proposed to fill the pauses of the war 
with legislative duties, were excluded, and compelled to re- 
join their commands — leaving the work of legislation to be 
done by common, ignorant men, who were satisfied to remain 
in seats which soon came to be considered, as even dis- 
honorable, in comparison with the places of glory and danger 
in the field. 
U 



162 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITU A 

The decisiou that excluded military officers iVoni Congress, 
was probably just, but, in many respects, unfortunate. It 
accounts for that extreme intellectual degradation, which 
made the Confederate Congress a peculiar stock of shame in 
the war — actually one of the weakest and most inane bodies 
that ever met under the title of a legislative assembly in his- 
torical times. It came, at last, to be composed chielly of two 
classes — men who were never before publicly known, or old 
politicians, too far broken down in their fortunes to attempt 
new careers or to be invited by the prospect of military 
honors. This prospect, unfortunately for the South, drew 
from its political councils too much of its best mind, and may 
be said to have abandoned the whole government to Mr. 
Davis and a few weak creatures surrounding him ; although, 
in later periods of the war, some of tlio distinguished poli- 
ticians who had sought the field, either from disappointment 
there, or from resentment of what they supposed Mr. Davis's 
disfavor, returned to plague him and to assail his administra- 
tion — but, unhappily, only after it had sunk almost beneath 
reproach. Beyond this brief and exceptional animation, the 
history of the Confederate Congress is scarcely more than 
that of the reflection of the will and temper of President 
Davis — a mere servile appendage to an autO(?racy the most 
supreme of modern times. 

It is difficult to understand how, at one time of the war, 
the political concerns of the Southeru Confederacy were 
almost entirely abandoned to Mr. Davis, and a Congress 
which was scarcely more than a figure-head, unless we take 
into account a peculiar passion in the South for military ser- 
vice that marked the first years of hostilities. There was 
nothing like it in the North ; there the ambition for military 
honors was not so absorbing, and the labors and aspirations 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFKDliRACY. 163 

of puVjlic men were divided with sin^^nlar fairness between 
the politieal eouncil and tlie field. But, to tlie prizes of the 
latter, the ambition of the South seems to have been almost 
exclusively directed. Scarcely any thing was attempted in 
that career of statesmanship, which, in such great historical 
periods, should run even witli that of arms. Tlie best men 
of the South neglected all I'ormer fields of political ambition ; 
they were no longer anxious to be known as statesmen, or 
legislators, or orators, when they might be known as success- 
ful generals. It was not only that the South, probably from 
its natural temper, placed a higher value on martial prowess 
than did the North, but the former had a peculiar estimation 
of the war — it was pro aris et focis; and there v^^as a public 
sentiment that drove men into the army from QY^ry occupa- 
tion in life, and from every seat of public office, until, at last, 
civil office was held in disrepute, and the government was 
denuded almost to the point of stark incapacity. This in- 
flated desire for the military field, niiglit have been admirable 
in some respects ; but none, except those who witnessed its 
wild and sweeping operations in the South, can imagine how 
it stripped the political arena, or estimate the injury it 
wrought in surrendering the civil affairs of tlie Southern 
Confederacy to incompetent men, and securing an easy and 
blind toleration of Mr. Davis, and i\\o. s<'.i-vile Congress that 
waited on and executed his decrees. 

Indeed, for the first year of the war Mr. Davis was actuall)'- 
the legislator of the Confederacy, and laws, framed in the 
Executive Office, were as regularly sent into the dingy room 
in whi(di Congress sat in secret session, as the common com- 
munications of information from the departments. Unfortu- 
nately, Mr. Davis had an excessive conceit that he was born 
under the star of Mars, and that he was excellently qualified 



164 LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

to legislate on military subjects ; and Congress was weak 
enough to indulge his foolish and j)ragn)atical fancy. He 
was really responsible (as he had not used his authority to 
check, although busy enough with the veto in other instances,) 
for two notable military measures, in the first year of the 
war, which brought the Confederacy to the brink of ruin, 
and, indeed, would have delivered her an easy prey to the 
enemy, had the hesitating and unready McClellan known the 
extent of his opportunity. 

One of these measures was a law passed in December, 1861, 
of which it has been well remarked, its true title would have 
been, " To disband the armies of the Confederacy." It was 
the fruit of the lowest demagogism. It permitted the men 
to change their arm of the service, to elect new ofhcers, and 
to reorganize throughout the army. It was said that the 
soldiers claimed the letter of their contract — to leave the ser- 
vice at the expiration of one year ; and the weak legislators 
at Richmond thought it necessary to indulge what was called 
their democratic sense of individuality, by allowing them to 
reduce the organization and discipline of the army to what- 
ever standards would content them, and to convert their 
camps into a carnival of misrule, and into the vilest scenes 
of electioneering for commissions. Tliis so-called "reorgani- 
zation" had gone on in the face of an enemy who, if he had 
taken timely advantage of it, would have found little else 
than demoralized men, disgracing the uniform of soldiers, 
covering the most vital points of the Confederacy. Every 
candidate who was anxious to serve his country with braid 
on his shoulders, plied tlie men with the lowest arts of the 
cross-roads politician, even to the argument of whiskey, and 
contributed to the general demoralization — until the men, 
feeling the newer to dethrone their present ofiicers, lost all 



SECRET HISTOllY OF THE CONFEDKliAC V. 165 

respect for their authority, and became the miserable tools of 
every adventurer and charlatan who imposed upon their con- 
fKlcnce. 

Not satisfied with demoraliz;ing the army, another legisla- 
tive measure was passed, some months later, under the in- 
spiration of Mr, Davis, to deplete it. With the prorcssed 
purpose of inciting re-cnlistmcuts, it was provided that IVii'- 
loughs for sixty days should be granted all those soldiers who 
would re-enlist for three vears or the war — said funoughs 
to b.e dealt out in lots drawn from each company. The con- 
sequence was, the Southern armies wasted away in front of 
the enemy, and at a most critical period, when he was com- 
pleting his own elaborate and imposing preparations for the 
spring campaign of 1862. Those who lived in Eichmond in 
those times, will remember the flocks of soldiers passing 
through its streets to their homes, in magnitude of numbers^ 
almost an army — sometimes, in a single day, an unbroken 
throng stretching from tlie depot on Broad street to the 
bridge over the James. It appeared as if the army in North- 
ern Virginia had disbanded. The newspapers could not use 
remonstrance; and, how narrow was their field for critical 
discussion, may be understood from the fact that they were 
enjoined to make no reference that could possibly be con- 
strued as revealing any weakness in the Confederacy, so as 
" to give information to the enemy." This absurd rule was 
practised on the press sometimes to the point of puerility ; 
and once, it is known, that Secretary Benjamin 'prepared an 
order to suppress the Richmond Examiner, because its criti- 
cisms of public affairs gave information to the enemy. Mr, 
Davis prudently declined to sign the order, and Mr. Benja- 
min, or his successors, never dared to repeat tlie experiment 
on a free and virile press. But though, iu the instance of 



166 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

public danger referred to, the press was dumb, the Generals 
commanding in the field were not. Thej took the alarm be- 
fore it was too late. Generals Johnston and Beauregard 
united in letters of protest, and it was only when they inti- 
mated that they would resign their commands, before thoir 
forces should be spirited away by foolish legislation, that .Con- 
gress repealed the disastrous law ; or, rather, unwilling to 
incur the appearance of concession, suffered its operations to 
be withheld by military orders. 

In the civil or internal administration of Confederate affliirs, 
Mr. Davis was not moi'o happy than in the conduct of the 
war. He had created a great scandal in his Cabinet ; the 
support of the public was slipping from him ; his government 
was weak and insecure of the confidence of the people. It is 
remarkable of the civil administration of the Confederacy that 
in the entire history of it there is not to be pointed out one 
act of statesmanship. There was no breadth in any of its 
measures; they Avere partial and halting, make-shifts and 
alterthoughts ; and he who Avrites truly of the war, whatever 
he may have to commemorate of the valor of Southern sol- 
diers or of the devotion of Southern leaders, must yet note the 
sad absence of enterprise, genius and energy in the conduct 
of public affairs. 

Before the war the Southern mind was supposed to have 
peculiarly the gift of statesmanship. It had contributed most 
of the political literature of the country ; it had reigned in 
the coinicils*of the old government. But it was a speculative 
statesmanship that achieved these honors ; the Southern mind 
lacked the faculty of business; and in the practical art of 
government, just tliat talent in which the South was supposed 
to be superior to tlie North, it was beaten at every point. 
No politician of his day could split hairs between State 



SKCRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 167 

Eights and the Constitution with more skill and dexterity 
than Jefferson Davis ; but when it came to the practical cares 
of administering the affairs of eight millions of people he was 
as ignorant as a child, and had nothing to offer but weak and 
blundering imitations of the government from which he had 
professed to depart. The summary description of his adminis- 
tration is that it was a pale reflex of what was taking place 
at Washington. lie copied the Constitution of the United 
States with all its patches of departments and bureaus ; he 
reproduced all the old routine of Washington, and he even 
imported men from there to assist him in various branches 
of his government. Tliere was no political invention in 
Eichmond. A government in the position of a seccder, if 
not of a rebel, was so utterly destitute of statesmanship, so 
devoid of intellectual force and originality, as to follow with 
halting and apish imitations upon the government it had for 
saken and denounced. 

Mr. Davis produced not one good invention of political 
management; and submitting that the war was a question of 
political management as well as of arms, we have a new 
measure of the responsibility of this single man for the loss 
of the Southern cause. He had no talent for government. *■ 
This defect alone would have turned the balance of the war, 
without the conspiracy of other causes. He had every thing 
at command : a willing and docile people, brave soldiers, com- 
petent officers, a territoiy large and difficult to conquer. It 
is against all these we must measure his responsibility. As 
we enumerate advantage after advantage of the South, we 
narrow the hypothesis as to the cause of its failure, uniil at 
last it must come down by logical reduction to one man — he 
the ruler who permitted these advantages to be conquered 
throufi'h an imbecile and barren administration. The South 



1G8 LIFE OF JEFFERSON' lUVltf, MUMl A 

did not need men or moans : it noodod statosnianslnp to direct 
and eniplov them. The detiniiion of what was needed at 
Kiehmond was thus given in one of its Jvuirnals :— " the Ibro- 
sight that perceives, but is not appalled bv eoniing niislbr- 
tiines ; the hard sense, the vigorous eonnnand, tlio eourago 
that flames up from defeat and rebounds unhurt from disaster, 
the manly contldence in others, the strength oi' body, as well 
as of mind, which supports and renews them all." l^ut here 
was a man who had no tbresight ; Avho was blind to the 
preparations of the enemy; who had refused fortune when it 
had been thrust upon him at ^Manassas; who had allowed 
magnilk'ent armies that rushed forward in the lirst months 
of the war to dwindle into iusignilieanee ; who scorned com- 
mon sense ; who was vigorous only in his obstinacy ; who 
was jealous of all intellect that had already been marked by 
the public judgment ; who had a broken physical constitution 
and a querulous disease; an accomplished scholar who knew 
much more of tlie hieroglyphs of Egypt than oi' the art ol' 
goverinnont, a literary dyspeptic who had more ink than 
blood in liis veins, and an intriguer who, busy with private 
enmities, and encircled by the lire they kindled, was stinging 
himself to death ! No Avonder the South was doomed to early 
foilure under such a leader ! 

Complaints were already breaking out against the adminis- 
tration of Mr. Davis as the people began to feel the actual 
distress of the war and thus to have their eyes turned to the 
improvidence of the government. It was seen that elothiiig 
and arms were dciicient for the army, when they might have 
been easily imported before the blockade had been conlirmed. 
At Montgomery the Government had tlu)ught it quite suHi- 
/ cient to order eight thousand stand of siuall-arnis from 
Europe. When the blockade became binding, it was said 



HKCItKT III.SroiiY OF THJO fJO.VFKDKUACY, 109 

Uiat Uio Cf^irirnorcial ont(;rpriHO of Kn;^larid would at once bo 
c-xcitcd by the liigli prices it would eKtablinh to send forward 
cargocH of arms, munitions, modioincs and other stores most 
needed; but this calculation had proved delusive, and such 
waH tlie distresH for arms that the Governors of Hcvcral of the 
iStav/es were (obliged to issue appeals to the citi>;eriH to eonlri- 
butc their shot guns and fowling-pieces to arm tlie Confeder- 
ate troops. In some cases appropriations were made to 
rnanufiicture pikes, and there were regiments who had no 
weapon but shaf'tH of tougli wood pointed with steel. But 
besides this scantiness of the vovy implements of war, there 
were other complaints to be ascribed to the stupidity of the 
government, itn want of foresight and its deception of the 
people. 

Not only lia'l the o[)|)ortMriity not be(;ri taken to luring in 
supplies I'rom l^jurope v/hen the ports of the Confederacy 
were o|)eri, but Mr. iJavis had actually welcomed the block- 
ade, and vaunted it as a blessing in disgiiise. He had hoped 
that the manufiicturing nece.s.sities of England and France 
would force them to a speedy recognition of the Confederacy, 
and to an interference with the blockade. ]5ut there was no 
eviflenee of these manufacturing necessities at the end of the 
year. The supfdy of cotton was as large in jjiverpool at the 
beginning of 1802 as at the beginning of J 80 1, although the 
blockade (;f the Southern ports had then existed more than 
six months. "King Cotton" was already dethroned. Mean- 
while an agricultural per^ph; who had always relied on the 
sale of the year's crops had found no market; and the com- 
plaints of crippled planters were added to the volume of re- 
crimination against tlie government. 

The fjnanciul embarniHsment of the Confederacy had already 
commerjeed. Tiici'e ec^ul'l be no i^reater cause of alarm to 



170 LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

those intelligent persons who understood that war required 
money as well as men, that it could uot be carried on by a 
mere sentiment. Indeed the linanco oi^ the Conlcderacy was 
a vital element of the situation, and is a distinct part of the 
political life of Mr. Davis not to be omitted. But the subject 
is large and distinct enough for a separate treatment, and it 
may well lill another chapter. 



SECRKT MiSrOliY OF THK CONFliDEKACY. 171 



criAJ^'j^ii xri. 

The Financed of tfio Southorn Confoderacy — Karly MoJwuroo of Taxation at Montgomery A 

Civil LiHt Votoil of a Million and a lialf Dollarx — Tho Five Million Loan — Ooncioncy nf Ameri- 
can I'oIitidanH in Finance — Extreme and Orotesque Ignorance of Mr. lJavi»on thio Subject — 
Secretary Momrningora CurloHity in IiIh Catjinot — A Kace of AbHiird Fancies — HiHtory of the 
Produce Ldhu — Extravagant ExpectatioriH from it — Its Complete and LiidicrouH Failure — 
Mr. TJoBow'h OfJice "To Let" — The Confederate Government Abandons ito Firnt ProiKwitlon 
of Finance — Ilovtr the CommioHariat was Relieved — History of a firand Financial Hciicmc — 
Proposition for tho Government to Buy all tho Cotton in tho South — Extraordinary Virtues 
of this Scheme — It miglit have Decided the War — IIow Mr. Memmingor Derided tho Schenio 
— Mr. Davis's After-thought in tho Prison at Fortress Monroe — A 8hallow and Miserable 
Subterfuge — Supplements of the Financial Policy of the Confederacy — Conversion of Private 
Debts Duo in tho North — Tho Sequestration Law — The Administration of Mr. Davis Chal- 
lenged on it — A Scathing Denunciation by Mr. Pettigru, of South Carolina — Mr. Davis At- 
tempts to Use the Credit of tho States — lie Fails in this Recoursf; — His Government Thrown 
Back to tJio Beginning of its Financial Policy — Mo Proposes Paper Money as a Panacea — 
Distinction lietwcen Currency and Kcvenuc — Stupidity of Mr. Davis In Financial Matters— 
Tho First Seeds of Corruption Sown in the Confederate Finance — Mr. Mornrninger's Funding 
Jugglo — "Flush Times" in Richmond — Silly Self-Congratulations of the President — The Road 
to Ruin. 

The Confederate Government had commenced its career 
with but small concern for its finances. When establi.shed at 
Montgomery, it had, mistaking the resolution of tho North, 
scarcely entertained a thouglit of actual war — at least, the 
anticipation of such was at once too limited and too light to 
have founded upon it much legislation. And, besides, the 
authorities then were naturally anxious not to alarm, by a 
too early apparition of taxation (perhaps the severest test of 
the popular courage and devotion in any cause) the people 
then being brought under the experiment of a new govern- 
ment. Indeed, we may remark by the way, that the consti- 
tutional dread of taxation in.separable from tlie public mind, 



172 LIFE OF JEFFEUSOX PAVIS, WITH A 

Avas somowliat adroitly turned by the ]\[ontgoincry Congress, 
to deeide the border States, then hesitating to enter the new 
Cont'ederacy, and to suggest to the North a new argiuneut 
against Avar, and a speeial indueenient to eoutraet early rela- 
tions of friendship and reeiproeity Avith the neAv Ixejuiblic. 
As early as April, 1861, a stringent law had been })assed, 
exaeting heav}' duties on all goods eoniing into the iheu six 
federated States from eoterniinous territory; and among 
the first serious duties of Mr. Mennninger, Seeretary of the 
Treasury, Avas to prepare elaborate eireulars establishing 
"Revenue stations" on the land iVontiei', Avhere the duties 
and tolls Avere to be colleeted, and the railroad trains halted 
and visited. The freedom of trade, Avas a eoneession whieh 
thb new government reserved, for politieal elleet, and it Avas 
undoubtedly used with some advantage in persuading the 
reluetant Border States to throw tlunr eommercial interests, 
as Avell as their politieal destinies, Avith the Confederacy. 

It is in curious contrast Avith later experiences of the Avar, 
to observe with Avhat hesitation and closeness the Confederate 
Uoverinnent commenced, in the artir,le of expenditures. The 
Avhole civil list voted at Montgomery Avas but $1,-±G8,196, 
The iirst military appropriation, to be added to this, Avas 
$1,323,707, for the equipment and support ol:' t/nre l/uv/sand 
troops ibr twelve months! This Avas before Mr. Jjincoln's 
inauguration. But only tAVo days had elapsed after he had 
appeared officially in Washington and made that equiv^:)cal 
speech, which the South generally intei'preted as Avar, wln}n 
the Montgomery Congress, opening its eyes somewhat to the 
Avidth of the prospect before it, voted to raise one hundred 
thousand volunteers. li'rom this point tlie appreciation of (he 
impending crisis may be said to huxo enlarged, the scale of 
tinance keeping even pace with it, and thus allbrding a curi- 



SECRET HISTOliY OF THE CONFEDEliACY. 173 

ous measure of the growing voliiuic of jjublio expectation 
coiJCCiTiing the war. 

The first notable fi imnoiul measure of tlie new government 
was to advertise for a loan of fivi; niilli(;ns oCdolIarH. Tliree 
millions were subscribed in excess, and the whole amount 
was taken, repj-esented by bonds bearing eight per cent, 
interest. When tlie war had become flagrant, and the Gov- 
ernment had removed to Richmond, with a larger ]-eprcsenta- 
tion, and an appreciation comparatively heightened of the 
struggle in which it had now actually engaged, it became 
necessary to found a permanent scheme of finance; and the 
Provisional Congress was early perplexed with this, at once 
the most difficult and delicate problem of new governments. 

There is nothing in which the Confederate Government 
halted and blunderf^d worse, even from tlie first stages in its 
career, and wherein it more strongly illustrated its puerility 
of device, than its financial policy. It has been generally 
remarked, how sadly deficient the public men of America are 
in finance — a branch of statesmanship whieh tlie European 
politician is tauglit to consider the most important part of 
his education, and his most available fund of popularity. 
The fact is, that in our government, preceding the war, so 
little did it know of pecuniary necessities — a distress com- 
mon to European governments — with a revenue generally in 
excess of its expenditures, and with an almost nominal public 
debt, that our politicians were satisfied to be ignorant of 
finance, and scarcely ever felt such want of knowledge in 
their speeches and canvasses of popular favor. The single 
phase of this subject in our politics, w^as the tariff; and that 
was exceptional, and scarcely ever treated as an independent 
measure of finance, outside of its sectional relations as be- 
tween North and South. Its significance was sectional rather 



IT-i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, AVITH A 

tlian linaucial. Among our most aocomplishod politicians, 
betbre the war, it was rare to tind ono who had a, head lor 
figures, or wlio would vontnro bol'oro a popidar auddoneo on 
a subject which he esteemed so dry, and so incapable of 
rhetorical etYects. Jefferson Pavis was not only no exception 
to this rule, but he was a most remarkable example o[' it. lie 
had n\ore than usual breadth oi^ cultivation for an American 
politician. His fund of historical illustration was large and fa- 
cile; he had an extensive acquaintance with general literature"; 
and his habits were those of a student. a\nd yet, as the war 
showed him, he was ignorant of finance, even to the point of 
grotesqueness, and on that subject full of childish devices, 
which can only be related now to amuse the world. Unhiip- 
pih'-, he added to his own deficiencies in this respect by an 
absurd, almost inexplicable choice of his Secretary oi' the 
Treasury. Instead of calling to his aid, in that department, 
one having some former experience in, or particular know- 
ledge of financial matters, who might supply his own defect 
of education therein, he selected a man who knew even less 
of these matters than himself — who competed with him in 
ignorance — who encouraged his tendency to vagaries — and 
who redoubled that fondness o( inventions and reforms, in 
which the smatterer is characteristically bold. It was a most 
unfortunate trait of Mr. Davis to imagine that his abilities 
laid precisely in that direction iij which he had noi\e ; and 
the fruit of t.his dangerous conceit, w^as a shallow and whin\- 
sical character of inventions, nowdiere more remai-kably dis- 
plaved than in his various suggestions on the subject of 
finance. Mr. Memminger had very much the same order of 
mind, which mistakes its vocation ; and through the joined 
conceits of the two, the fiehl of Confederate finance was popu 
lated with grotesque and absurd fancies. What could have 



SKCUET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDEKACy. 175 

flctonninod Mr. Davi.s to make this man Secretary of the 
Treasury, has not been discovered to the author. lie had 
been known in South Carolina only as a lawyer. He had 
the hard, unsympathizing face of that profession, manners 
almost rude, and an unpleasant eccentricity — a curious man — 
a zealot in religion, who had an almost insane passion for 
controversial theology — and who appeared much more in 
character, poking among the bookstores of Richmond and 
hunting recondite works on the religious beliefs of a former 
age, than performing the duties of financier of the Confederate 
States, and supplying its vulgar needs of money. 

The first fruit of the financial consultations in Richmond 
was what was popularly known as " the Produce Loan." Mr, 
Davis, with an effort at modesty, has referred to this measure 
as " one happily devised by the superior wisdom of Congress;" 
but it is certain that he inspired it, accepting the consumma 
tion by Congress of his wishes on this subject with unusual 
affability. The 'scheme was a singular one, ingeniously par 
taking both of the character of a patriotic contribution and 
a thrifty loan. It was proposed that the producers of the 
Confederacy, particularly those of cotton and tobacco, should 
subscribe portions of their annual crops to the government, 
not in the sense of segregating it in kind, or of actual delivery, 
but on condition that when the crop was sold in regular way 
— a particular day designated for the sale so as to give cer- 
tainty to the contract — the factor or commission merchant 
should invest a part of the proceeds corresponding to the 
amount of subscription, in Vjonds of the government bearing 
eight per cent, interest. The plan looked excellent on paper. 
The planter was not to part with his crop ; there was to be no 
inconvenience of delivery in kind; the whole scheme rested 
on the assumption that the subscriptions might be used by 



176 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

the govorumout as oroilits, ami thus sustain tho vaUic of its 
promises to pay in shape of ourrencv. The government re- 
garded it as a model of financial Avisdom, appealing to the 
patriotism of the producer, as well as consulting his sellish- 
ness. by otVering him a good investment ; and, for some time, 
it appeared, indeed, to have reason to congratulate itself on 
its ingenuit3\ 

Commissioners were appointed to canvass every square 
mile of territory in the Confederacy. A separate bureau to 
manage the loan was organized in Kielnnond. the lamented 
J. D. B. De Bow being its head. The progress of subscrip- 
tions was watched with the greatest solicitude by the public; 
the reporters of the newspapers visited almost every day the 
office of the chief commissioner and published the list of sub- 
scriptions to excite the competition of particular districts. 
On the 20th of July, 1861, it was announced by the govern- 
ment with ill-restrained delight, and to the lively gratification 
of the public, that the Produce Loan, estimated by values, had 
already reached fifty millions of dollars, and by the close of 
the year might be expected to touch the magnificent sum of 
one hundred millions. 

When the year did close, the Produce Loan had disappeared; 
no one knew of it, no one inquired of it, no one cared for it. 
In reality it had ceased to exist ; it had already passed into 
histor}'' as one of the most complete failures and notable 
absurdities of the Confederacy. The bureau, which had been 
so ostentatiously constructed was discontinued; the oflice- 
rooms which Mr. De Bow had so handsomely furnished, and 
which had been the rendezvous of politicians and reporters, 
were closed and " to let ;" and actuall}' all that remained of 
this magnificent loan were the dead leaves of paper on which 
its fiofures had been marshalled. 



SKCRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 177 

What had become of it? It had died strangely, quietly 
but surely, of defects inherent in the scheme. Of these defects 
the dull government had, after its usual fashion of discovery, 
been convinced only on experiment; and its first important 
proposition of finance it uterly aVjandoned without explana- 
tion or excuses to the public. It had failed to perceive 
until •experience demonstrated the obvious consideration that 
without markets the cotton and tobacco were not available as 
it had designed them ; and that in proportion as they were 
not so available, the credits founded solely on the prospect of 
sale, represented in the planters' subscriptions, were of no ac- 
count. There were other fatal difficulties. The essential vir- 
tue of the contract Vjetween the government and the planter 
was that the crop should be sold at some certain — even if dis- 
tant — day; the certainty of the sale founding the credit, the 
time in which an obligation is to run rather improving than 
impairing it in financial estimation as long as it is sure of 
performance. But it was impossible to guaranty such cer- 
tainty, and thus obtain credit for the transaction. The crop 
might be burned, or otherwise destroyed, in the ravages of the 
war; the planter might become bankrupt; if he refused to 
sell on a falling or disadvantageous market, the government 
had practically no power to compel him, and, indeed it would 
have incurred a great moral guilt and shame in forcing a sale 
in circumstances which might be ruinous to a patriotic citi- 
zen standing in the light of its benefactor and creditor, A 
scheme hedged with such uncertainties could, of course, not 
be used as a source of credit; it was defective in almost every 
particular; and the government, after a short trial, abandoned 
it, but not until it had displayed that disposition for nice and 
paltry empiricisms which was hereafter to afflict nearly all 

the public affairs of the Confederacy. 
12 



ITS LIFE OF JEFFEKSON DAVIS, AVITII A 

But while the rroduco Loan \v;i:s tluis ossonlially a lailurc 
— cvou to the point, as we have seen of utter abaudouuient — 
it was incidentally not without benefits. Where the crops 
were other than cotton or tobacco, such as grain, meat, etc., 
special arrangements were elYected to take the subscriptions 
in kind, aad they were made immediately available as army 
supplies. In this way the Confederate commissariat was con- 
siderabl}'" relieved, and the greater part of the subsistence of 
the army was obtained at first hand without the intervention 
of purchasers. This, to some extent was an advantage; but a 
more considerable benefit of the Produce Loan was its sug- 
gestion of a much larger scheme in which what there was of 
virtue in this loan was logically extended to a wider conclu- 
sion, and whereon might have been founded one of the most 
admirable financial systems of modern times. This imperfect 
loan was the germ in fact of an idea which might have saved 
the financial integrity of the Conibderacy, and not remotely 
turned the balance of the war. 

The subscriptions of the planters to the Produce Loan 
naturally furnished, in their estimation, some ground h)r re- 
clamation on the government. Those men, in want of a 
market, soon became distressed for ready means ; they a[i[>lied 
to the government for assistance in the nature of advances ; 
this was properly refused as invidious to others of the public ; 
and out of these embarrassments, ultimately and naturally 
grew the proposition that the government should take abso- 
lute possession and control of the whole cotton crop of the 
South, at a stipulated price, the minimum of the market. It 
was to employ and control the crop in its own right, as 
purchaser, unfettered, as in the Produce Loan, by uncertain 
and speculative agreements with the planter. 

A irrand scheme was oll'ered the Gfovernment thus to utilize 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY, 179 

the main, bulk of the wealth of the South; and under tliis 
arrangement cotton, indeed, instead of remaining an idle hoard 
in the war, might have asserted something of that regal in- 
fluence, which the early politicians of the Confederacy had 
ascribed to it. The newspaper press enlarged upon the idea 
thrown out by the necessities of the planters, but comment-u- 
rate with the interests of the country, and discovered in it the 
breadth of a financial scheme, which would have answered all 
the exigencies and expectations of the war. The Richmond 
DispoAch calculated, that with the cotton crop, purchased and 
deposited in England, the government, at the then prevailing 
prices for this staple, might make a clear profit of six hundred 
millions of dollars, even allowing twenty cents a pound to the 
planter, and supposing that one-fifth of the cargoes was cap- 
tured by the enemy — a balance in favor of the Confederacy 
that would have enabled it to drain every bank in Europe 
of specie, or if drawn upon as its need required, would have 
made its treasury notes equal to gold. 

But the planters were willing to sell at seven cents a pound, 
and the blockade being yet unadjusted, and most of the ports 
of the Confederacy being actually open, the proportion of 
captures would have been slight ; and the correct basis of 
estimate was three million and a half bales of cotton, at tlie 
maximum price, as the government could have held it in 
Europe for the highest rise of the market, which, even in tho 
second year of the war had advanced to seventy or eighty 
cents a pound. The imagination is dazzled contemplating 
the financial consequences in reach of the Confederate rulers. 
The government commenced in such narrow pecuniary for- 
tunes, and ultimately squandered in make-shifts, had really 
the elements of one of the most successfid and elastic schemes 
of finance that the world had seen. In its cotton it had a store 



180 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

of wealtli that might have been easily mobilized, and a basis 
of credit Avhich, extending as the price of the staple advanced, 
would thus have kept progress with the war, supplied all its 
necessities, and furnished an evidence of Southern prosperit}'- 
and stability, that, acting powerfully on the opinion of the 
world and the avarice of the enemy, might have terminated 
the contest. 

It is absolutely painful to review the argument and temper 
with which the Confederate Administration treated a propo- 
sition of finance that had really so many merits; to observe 
how it rejected and disdained a means of safety, that circum- 
stances had, as if providentially, thrust upon it, aided, too, by 
reinforcements of public opinion. Mr. Meraminger derided 
the scheme. In his private conversation he spoke of it as 
''soup-house legislation," charity to a class, which entailed 
expense to the whole community. In an official circular on 
the subject, dated the 17th October, 1861, he said : "No clause 
in the Constitution can be found which would sanction so 
stupendous a scheme as purchasing the entire crop of cotton." 
He objected that the government might "hazard its entire 
credit and stability. The experiment was too dangerous." 
The argument he used against the scheme deserves a con- 
spicuous place among the curiosities of financial literature. 
He contended, that "the cotton would do the government no 
good, and that it would receive no benefit whatever from this 
advance. The money is paid to each individual planter ; and 
in exchange the government receives only his bond or note ; 
or, if the cotton be purchased, the government receives only 
certain bales of cotton, that is to say, the government pays 
out money which is needful to its very existence, and receives 
in exchange, planters' notes or produce, which it does not 
need, and cannot in any way make use of." 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 181 

But the mind of the Secretary, so juvenile in financial mat- 
ters, failed in this estimate to understand the simple idea ol 
values, in the shape of credit, and he leaves out of account — 
what he appears never to have conceived in his whole financial 
career — the necessit}^ of some basis for all forms and designs 
of currency. The cotton, even if held in Europe and not sold, 
would have served all the purposes of the Confederacy for 
credit, and would have kept its notes at par, Avhile the 
"money," which Mr. Memminger regretted to see go out of 
the Treasury for what he considered a useless acquisition, was 
comparatively worthless, as long as it represented a promise 
to pay without anything to support it. 

We are aware that in that convenient commentary which 
Mr. Davis is reported to have made in prison on Confederate 
affairs, and wherein he is as wise as the most foolish may be 
on retrospect, he has attempted to throw the discredit of the 
rejection of the Cotton Purchase wholly on his subordinate, 
Mr. Memminger, and to acquit himself of what he noAv per- 
ceives to have been an almost criminal absurdity. It is the 
invariable resort of weak men to attempt to cure their repu- 
tation by asserting prophetic visions of the eveni after it has 
happened ; and Mr. Davis appears to have been busy with 
this work in the reflections of his prison at Fortress Monroe. 
He is there reported to have declared that Mr. Memminger 
defeated the financial plan referred to in opposition to his 
wishes ; that he, the President, "privately approved it, but had 
not time to study and take the responsibility of directing it." 

But this explanation of Mr. Davis is a dishonest after- 
thought — a shallow and miserable subterfuge from which he 
may be easily driven. He was the President of the Confeder- 
acy, and he was responsible for his agents, by every known 
rule of American Administration. Indeed this rule may be 



182 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

urged against him with exceptional force, considering how 
much he was disposed to assert his individuality in his Admin- 
istration, in how many instances he removed subordinates even 
more important than Mr. Memminger and for even compara- 
tively trifling opposition to his wishes, and how little likely he 
was to be controlled by any man in ordinary matters, much less 
in one that he has since protested to have felt at the time as of 
vital moment. It is not to be believed that the Confederate 
President, with his known habit or temper, would have 
allowed himself to be controlled by a man like Memminger 
remarkable for his servility, and that too in a matter which in 
his conversation since the war as a prisoner he declares " in 
itself would have insured victory." The attempt of Mr. Davis 
thus to shift responsibility for his misgovernment in an issue 
so important, is as weak as it is ungenerous. He summed the 
financial history of the Confederacy plainly enough, saying : 
" When we might have put silver in the purse, we did not put 
it there; when we had only silver on the tongue, our promises 
were found to become excessive." But unhappily this ingen- 
ious contrast had never occurred to him in Eichmond ; he 
appreciated the financial situation only after it had lapsed to 
ruin ; and, like many another unfortunate, he lamented lost 
oppoi'tunities only at the end of his career, and within the walls 
that reduced him to imprisonment and reflection. 

In addition to the Troduce Loan and Cotton Purchase there 
were some other proposed measures to bring money into the 
Confederate Treasury. They were feeble supplements of the 
financial policy, and are chiefly remarkable for their large 
promises on paper and the small sums they realized. These 
financial aids — the measures were designed too, somewhat in 
a political or general sense — were a charge to all those owing 
money in the North to pay their debts into the Confederate 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 183 

Treasury and thus acquit themselves, and the sequestration 
of the property of alien enemies, as were designated not only 
the people of the North, but all those avIio, since the war, had 
left the Confederacy as malcontents. The most dazzling esti- 
mates were made of these two singular, sources of revenue. 
It was said the debts due the North amounted at least 
to two hundred millions of dollars, so accumulated had been 
the credits between the two sections before the war ; and it 
was hoped that at least a large portion of this sum would be 
converted into the Confederate Treasury under the prospect 
of debtors thus escaping their obligations. The results of the 
sequestration law were calculated at scarcely less ; and the 
writer recollects a careful estimate made in Congress, that the 
property and interests of Northern men in the city of New 
Orleans alone falling under the operations of this law, would 
amount to some thirty millions of dollars. 

But these irregular schemes of finance, on which were en- 
tertained such visions of gain, broke down miserably and not 
without some dishonor. But few reputable persons in the 
South could make up their minds to compound debts, in which 
their honor was to some extent involved, and with which per- 
haps were mixed personal obligations and sentiments, by pay- 
ing them into the Confederate Treasury to the deprivation 
and disowning of their creditors. The results of the seques- 
tration law were yet more meagre. At the close of the year 
1863, the fruits of this measure of large expectations Avere 
considerably less than two millions of dollars. Worse 
tian this, provisions of this law for discovering Northern 
property by writs of " garnisheeing, " and by interroga- 
tories running into inquisitions of the private affairs of any 
man suspected by the officers of the law, were resented as a 
breach of the constitutional and traditional rights of the peO' 



184 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

pie, and raised perhaps the first signal of serious opposition 
to the new government with respect to the republican charac- 
ter of its measures. The cries of this opposition were numer- 
ous enough at another period of the war ; but probably the 
administration of Mr. Davis on its inroad into the liberties of 
the people, never received a severer challenge than at this 
first stage of his experiment on the popular submission. Tlie 
challenge in this instance was given by one of the most im- 
portant citizens of the Confederacy — a declared Secessionist; — • 
and happily from the elevation and purity of his character, a 
man whose motives of opposition could not be misunderstood 
This man was J. S. Pettigru, a distinguished lawyer of Char^ 
leston. In a case in which he was interested, he went into 
open court, defied the sequestration law, spoke with surpass- 
ing eloquence for hours against it, and denounced it as "an 
act borrowed from the darkest period of tyranny, and a relic 
of the past dug up from the quarries of despotism." These 
were stinging words for the hitherto soothed ear of Mr. Davis, 
where had entered yet scarcely anything but the competing 
voices of flattery or the pleasing tones of submission. The 
newspapers published the speech of Mr. Petti^u with hesi 
tation, but not without a secret sympathy with its expres- 
sions, or at least some ardor of admiration for the courage 
that could speak thus boldy and scorn every advantage but 
that of truth. 

Meanwhile the Confederate Government was plunging- 
further into financial confusion and embarassment and on 
this subject was actually at the end of its wits. With the 
abandonment of the Produce Loan, the rejection of the Cot- 
ton Purchase, and the failure of other measures to replenish 
the treasury, the government was now completely at sea in 
Its financial policy. The serious question was to obtain 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 185 

means to carry on a war which was constantly enlarging. 
The Confederate Government, having rejected the plan, re- 
ferred to, of utilizing tlie cotton had really no credit but what 
was dependent on the fortune of the war. The States of 
course as permanent political bodies which were expected to 
survive any event of the war had their credit comparatively 
unimpaired ; and Mr. Davis earnestly recommended that they 
sliould aid the general government in the war to the extent 
of equipping and paying their respective troops in the field. 
But here again the jlrgument which moved the President to 
this appeal, though ingenious, was weak and contained a 
fatal fallacy. The aid thus given by the State Governments 
to that extent enfeebled the resources of the whole people of 
the Confederacy ; it was only a devious process where the re- 
sults did not differ, and which only made more certain the 
conclusion of general bankruptcy. As it was, the " war-debts " 
of the States contracted by this use of their credit were in- 
considerable, and amounted only to a few millions of dollars. 
The Confederate Government was thrown back to the be- 
ginning of its financial policy. In its bewilderment it had 
recourse to a policy always attractive from its simplicity, but 
universally fatal— the vice of making paper money illimitably ; 
the mistake of using currency as revenue. Mr. Davis's Ad- 
ministration, we repeat, was ignorant of the most primitive 
truths of finance ; and it never showed that ignorance more 
recklessly than when it relied upon the manufacture of a 
revenue out of naked paper obligations. Indeed, the science 
of political economy on this subject is not difficult. The 
proper use of paper money is only as a currency, a means to 
facilitate exchanges; it is limited by the wants of the com- 
munity for a circulating medium; and all issues in excess of 
this, in the vain illusion of creating values, is quite as fatal as 



186 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the empiricism -vvhicli debases tlie coin of a country to in- 
crease the revenue of tlie government. There are briefly no 
royal ways of making money out of nothing ; governments 
must raise money in the legitimate way of taxation, loans, etc. ; 
its paper currency is not money except as limited by the 
necessities of exchange, and based upon values commensurate 
in the shape of credits. 

In the month of July, 1861, the Provisional Congress passed 
a law authorizing the issue of one hundred millions of Trea- 
sury notes. At the same time it enacted a tax-bill — the first 
attempt at direct burdens on the people ; — but it was calcula- 
ted to raise only fifteen millions of dollars, leaving all the 
expenditures of the war in excess of this sum to be provided 
for by issues of paper money, which, of course, to this extent 
were translated from currency into revenue, and put on the 
inevitable road to depreciation. Thus was the financial doom 
of the Confederacy early pronounced. The door, once opened 
to paper issues, was not easily closed ; other issues than that 
just mentioned followed ; when the Confederacy entered the 
second year of the war, it was already carrying a volume of 
currency four times what were the wants of the community 
for a circulating medium; and from this time, Treasury notes 
fell rapidly — first 20 per cent, less than gold ; 50 per cent, 
three months later; 225 per cent, in December, 18(32 ; 400 per 
cent, in the spring of 18G3, and thereafter, until 6,000 pet 
cent, was the last measure of its value, at Avhich Mr. JMemmin- 
ger exchanged it at his counters. 

But we cannot anticipate here so much of the history of the 
Confederate currency. We are writing now only of that 
period in which tlie first design of pa})cr became fixed in the 
mind of Mr. Davis's Administration, and referring to the law 
which sowed the first seed of corruption. This law was 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 187 

afterwards aggravated by anotlier invention of Mr. Memrnin- 
ger — that of funding the Treasury notes by a certain compul- 
sion, making arbitrary rcduetions of interest in ease they re- 
mained unfunded after certain dates. It can be described 
only as the very multiplication of ignorance. 

It was easy to see that slight differences in rates of interest 
would an'oi'<l but feeble inducements for the conversion of the 
treasury note into a bond, when money was easily doubled or 
quadrupled in the active commercial speculations peculiar to 
the condition of the South in the war, unless the Ijond could 
be readily used as a medium of exchange ; and in that event 
there would only be a change in the form of the paper, the 
volume of the currency would be undiminished, and its de- 
preciation therefore remain the same. But while the analysis 
of this system of funding showed it to be a transparent juggle, 
it was by no means certain that it did not contain the germ 
of many positive evils. The right of a government to make 
arbitrary changes in any of the terms of its obligations which 
afl'ect their value, is questionable, and the commercial honor 
of such an expedient is more than doubtful. Thus, with the 
first issues of paper money, came the shadow of repudiation, 
as if the Government had determined to make double assur- 
ance of the financial wreck of the country. 

There could be no doubt of the final event of ruin. The 
Government had nothing, owned, nothing; it had laid only 
inconsiderable taxes; it had fallen upon the mistake, fatal in 
all financial experience — of confounding the two distinct 
topics of currency and revenue. The history of the paper 
money of the Confederacy is briefly that of all schemes of re- 
dundant currenc}^ — commencing with a great show of factitious 
prosperity, and thus cheating for a time the imagination, but 
invariably ending in universal bankruptcy and ruin. 



188 LIFE OF JEFFKRSON DAVIS, WITH A 

P'or the present Mr. Davis saw onl}^ the lirst of these con- 
ditions, lie was delighted, and even gleeful, at the easy way 
of making money.* The printers and the engravers, and the 
five hundred women who clipped the notes, were kept busy 
in Eichmond ; all business appeared to improve, activity was 
everywhere visible; the fever of a redundant currency was 
mistaken for high health, and Mr. Davis congratulating himself 
on his experiment, pointed with derision to the slow and 
painful financial tasks of the North. What extravagances 
he uttered on this subject, when he onieially summed the 
events of the first year of the war, we shall elscAvhere notice. 
It is unnecessary to anticipate. There coukl be but one end 
to the system of Confederate finance ; its final condition of 
colla})se was as certain as the first of inflation. The law of 
supply and demand is as applicable to money as to anything 
else ; it punishes all who violate it, and, however it may 
operate unseen by the tyro or emi)iric, it is as certain, as 
supreme, and as inexorable as the law of gravitation. 

* If any one doubts the financial ignorance of ISIr. Davis, or questions 
tl>e extent of his responsibility for the excessive paper money of the 
Confederacy, let hiui read his Message as late as August, 1862, advis- 
ing Congress t-o issue yet more Treasury notes, without fear of their 
depreciation, viz.: — " The legislation of the last session provided for 
the purchase of supplies with the bonds of the government, but the 
preference of the people for Treasury notes has been so marked, that 
' legislation is recommended to authorize :in inca-ease in the issue of 
Treasury notes, which the public service seems to require. No grave 
inconvenience need be apprehended from this increased issue, as the 
provision of law by which these notes are convertible into eight per 
cent, bonds, forms an eOicieut and permanent safeguard against any 
serious depreciation of the currency." 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 189 



CHAPTER XIII. 

John M. Daniel's New Year's Article— A I'liilosoplicr's Mourn frirtlie Uin'on— No Thought yet of 
tho .Subjugation of the South— Analysis of the Popular Sentiment, conc-eriiing President Davis 
—Description of the Military Lines of the Confeaeracy— lleflecHons on tho Sitirit and Charac- 
ter of the Southern People— Their Conceit about the War— The " Jtaecoon Jtoughs," and Mr. 
Lincoln's Hair— Why Mr. Davis was not Kxcusable for his Short Vision in the War— A Train 
of Disasters— Alarm and Demoralization of the People— A Cruel Mistake concerning General 
A. S. .Johnston- Inauguration of Mr. Davis as Permanent President— A Gloomy Scene in the 
Public Squaie at llichmond— Piteous Prayer of the President— Significance of the Change from 
a Provisional to a Permanent Form of Government — Some Account of a Secret Debate at 
Montgomery— Why tlie Adoption of a Permanent Constitution was a Mistake— The New Con- 
gress at Richmond— Significant Speech of Speaker Bocock— Who was the author of the Con- 
scription Law?— How Narrowly it Saved the Confederacy— A Statement of President Davis 
Shamelessly False- Two Remarkable Men in tho Confederate Congress— Mr. Footo (" Guhe.r- 
nalor Pa") of Mississippi— Mr. Boyce of South Carolina— A Remarkable Kffort of these Two 
Men to Impel the Confederate Armies into tho North— The EITort is Defeated- Traces of a Re- 
markable Conspiracy. 

John M. Daniel, the famous editor of Virgiana, wrote but 
seldom in tbe columns of the Richmond Examiner, and was 
the actual author of but few of the articles in his paper. He 
always insisted, however, on writing a New Year's article, 
summing events in an historical tone, and bestowing on them 
some reflections of pliilosophy. That which he wrote on the 
1st of January, 18C2, we have always thought the finest com- 
position of his pen, an exain[)le of lofty and elaborate style; 
yet most remarkable for its thoughtful sorrow on the events 
of the past year. It was the mourn of a philosopher, on what 
he imagined to be the ruins of a once great and happy 
government. 

He wrote : — " The end of the year just passed fills the mind 
" with melancholy reflections on the vanity of human wishes, 



190 LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

"the instability ol' liuinan croatiDiis, and llie iVivolity ot nil tlie 
" tlionglits of man. Wlun'c now is that wonilci'Tul connti'j 
"which realized the jiolitieal dream of jihilosophers and 
"patriots; — that grand temple of liberty, built for eternal 
" duration ; that perfect commonwealth, which gave the lie to 
"all the ages, and proved the self-government of nations to be 
" something more than the fable of a noble, but irratittnal, 
"imagination? What has become of that splendid illusion 
"which shed its lustre on the opening mind of the American 
"youth — the loi'ty thought, that he was born and would live 
" in a glorious republic of heroic States and free citizens, 
" whose title was above the royal raidc, and whose birth-right 
" was the envy of the world ? One short year has ended both 
"alike. The 'star-})ointing-pyramid ' has proven a tower of 
"Babel; that noble faith in the virtue and intelligence of the 
"soil's sons has given place to a disgust and indignation, too 
"deep for utterance in words; and on the plains where per- 
" petual peace was supposed to have nuide her settled seat, 
"war, with all its original savagery, reigns undisputed. The 
" catastrophe, brought by the year that ended yesterday, leaves 
"us not even the sombre consolation of the grandeur that has 
"attended the ruin oC other emjnrcs. The majestic liiln'ic' WAi 
"not beneath the giant hand of an invading race, or before 
"the blazing ambition of a secular genius. Enfeebled by the 
" cankers of inaction, and gnawed by the teeth of vermin, it 
"has gone down like a ship, whose timbers have been the un- 
" suspected prey of worms and mice. Few, Avho meditated 
'yesterday on these things, have not felt the justice of that 
"contempt for the conceited animal called man, his pursuits 
"and his projects, which religion and philosophy inculcate, 
'' but few have realized before." 

The paragraph quoted, expressed the almost universal 



SECRKT HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 191 

thought of the South, to the clTect that the Union wfis liope- 
lossly gone, irrovocibly destroyed — that thi.s fabric of govern 
ment, once esteemed so lair, liad fallen to sha]ieless laiiii, 
and tliat it remained only to construct out of the foregone 
conclusion of the war, a new political experiment. But few 
])ersons yet doubted the ultimate conclusion of the contest in 
the independence and separate government of the South. So 
far all that was feared or complained of in the Administration 
of Mr. Davis, was that it delayed the inevitable result of the 
war, and that it might unnecessarily increase the price that 
the South was to pay for licr independence. This was the 
extent of uneasiness in the Confederacy. The ultimate J'aith 
in its successful emergence from the war was not yet seriously 
diminished ; the popular outcry was only that the Richmond 
Administration was making the war hai'dci- than was neces- 
sary ; was exasperating its evils, by errors in its policy, and 
was enlarging its sufferings and sacrifices, by trials of its own 
creation. The thought of subjugation and of a re-affirmation 
of the Union had )iot yet, to any considerable extent, entenul 
the Southern mind; and this, although the Confederacy had 
not made any visible progress since the victory of Manassas, 
and although the enemy was making vast preparations for the 
second year of the war. But it must be remembered that 
these preparations had not yet been unveiled, and even the 
rumors of these were subjects of equivocation in the press. 
On the other hand, the Confederate extreme line of defence 
was, as yet, unbroken, had not yet been assailed; and Mr. 
Davis's policy of dispersion, while it really weakened the sub- 
stance of Confederate defence, yet made a very imposing and 
extravagant spectacle to the populace. It was a grand task 
for the eye to sweep a line of posts from the Atlantic ocean 
to the Mississippi river; a magnificent lliing to be plotted 



192 LIFE OF JEFFEESOX PAYIS, WITH A 

on paper : a brilliant meretrieions displn^', vastl}^ pleasing to 
the vulgar observation, however offensive to military calcu- 
lation. Here was a line of defence extending from Columbus, 
Kentucky, eastward through Bowling Green, the Cumberland 
river post, with advances on the Big Sandy and Kanawha 
rivers, Staunton, Winchester, Leesburg, Centreville, Aquia 
Creek, and the Potomac. This line yet rested near the verge 
of the enemy's territory. With what force it was threatened, 
and what powers it had to resist, were but little thought of by 
the many persons in the South, who were imposed upon by 
such geographical magnificence of defence ; who calculated 
on their maps that if the Confederacy was to be conquered by 
square miles, it would be an endless labor ; and who thus as- 
sured themselves that, however Mr. Davis, or his unworthy 
favorites might misconduct the war, they could only add to 
its term, they could not endanger its final result. The public 
mind of the Confederacy had, indeed, been disturbed b}' the 
maladministration of Mr. Davis, but it had not yet taken any 
serious alarm as to the possibility of subjugation. 
■ It is convenient here to reflect on an excuse frequently 
made by the partisans of Mr. Davis, as to his alleged over- 
confidence in the success of the South, and his short-sighted 
regard of the enemy. It is plausibly said that if such was 
his fault, nearly the Avhole popular sentiment of the South 
shared in it, and that in this he did nothing more than reflect 
the prevalent opinion of the Confetlerate public. AYliat is 
here suggested of the imperfect and conceited vision of the 
people of the South, concerning the war, is unquestionably 
true ; but the excuse it would prefer for Mr. Davis and his 
Administration, is, as we shall presentl}' see, of but little avail, 
and of an essentially follacious nature. 

The character of the Southern people is but liltle under- 



sechkt nisTouv of tiik cowkukuacy. pxi 

stood by .iKMvoH.I. n.ul i,, Inssolon.luvn a show-sl.u.k ,,. 

'nankn^i HI ,he nudln- ofslav.ry llut it ,s .miK.ulMo oKlul.,, 
Hun!os. through nusis of, Hvnuluv. Thoiv a,v ^val, .iHlvts 

^'''l-;^l-'lKn.u.l.M----I,ocMn.a.-.h.lod,sora..uKMil;'huUlu.,v is 
also n.n, ho SUM. of, nany virtues. The poopK- of ,h. Soulh 
l^ve bravo to a lauh. thoy avo .onerous to erodulity. poli.o 
l^osp.tabh., ehorishing n.auy noble virtues which tho'oon.n.or- 
c.al sp.r.t or Lhc> age has elsewlu-ro outgrown ; but fhoy have 
'^'1 the peeuhar faults of an m./r.m^ p.ople-a pooph> wh,. 
pass their hvesin loeal neighborhoods, and who Iiavin- but 
little ,dea oi' how large and various the world is. oasilv'fiko 
eonee.t^of thou- own powers and virtues. The worst" li.uhs 
01 thebouthern mind are to be traeed lo the isolation of 

agneultural pursuits and to peenliar habits of h>oal attaohn.en. 
-1^^^^'ltothat. A people nulravolK.l have high ideas or thoir 
ou-u importanee, are tnorbidly sensitive to orh,ioisn.. and ar. 
ven.arkable (or a certain puerili(,y measured by the standards 
01 the worhl. Men for whom the suti rises or sets iti a par- 
ticular eounty or Slate are not apt to tako .just views of tho 
ex ent and variety of the w.>rld boyond th..n,. it n.ay thus 
at least m a measure be explained why the South was so lon.^' 
^'^ ^;''tanHug an idea of the i.nmense resourees of the North 

agamst whieh she had to contend in the war. and with what 
extravagent conceit she co.n.neneed the contest. The sol 
d-ers who at the commencement of the war thought Ihoir 
ags would be dying in Washington in a i'o^v weeks, and the 

Raccoon Boughs'' wh<. had pronnsod t,he sweetd.earts thev 
had elttn tlK..r native mountains, to bring then, back a h,ck 
Abrahatn LmeolnVs hair were really honest, sincere fellows 

rhey .aw the hdls and valloys pouring out men; many of 

hem had never been in a Northern city; they were unacLs- 

tomed to see large collections of poopl., unused to multitudes 



191 LIFE OF JKFFEKSON DAVIS. WITH A 

and in the simplicity of their hearts they believed the South 
was making a display of force that could sweep the continent, 
and that in a month would be able to exhibit Abraham Lin- 
coln in the cage that popular imagination had designed for 
him. 

But Jeft'erson Davis knew better. lie had facilities of 
knowledge which the public did not have ; he knew the exact 
amount of the enemy's resources ; he had secret agents and 
emissaries in the North, and its preparations for the next cam- 
paign were dinned into his ears. But even omitting his oiH- 
cial facilities for information as to the strength and temper of 
the enemy, the argument that he is to be held excusable for 
short vision and imperfect judgments of the war, because the 
public was alike defective, is impudently fallacious, would 
destroy the responsibility of all rulers, and would deny the 
existence of such a thing as the science of government. It is 
the business and education of rulers to be superior to the 
masses in public affairs ; else government is nothing but the 
lowest demagogism, the alter ego of the pojnilace. The 
specialty of the statesman is prescience; he is supposed to be 
able to advise and warn the common people, to see what they 
do not see, and to direct what they do not understand. Not 
that a miraculous gift is expected from him; only a special 
accomplishment within the limits of human power. If the 
person called to preside over the destinies of several millions 
of people, and standing on the chief eminence of authoritv, his 
vision increased by all possible artiticial aids, could yet see no 
more than they did, and if his ignorance is to be excused by 
whatever of popular ignorance was extant at the same time, 
then Jefferson Davis was a supernumerary, and had no' right 
to be in the place he liad assumed. It is impossible by such 
arguments as that referred to, to refine away the responsibility 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 195 

ot* groat historical actors, or to distribute it tlirough the 
rnultitudo. Mr. Davis is to be judged as President of tliu 
Southern Confederacy, and not as a single distinguished citi/en. 
As the latter, ho might have pardonably erred with the major- 
ity of the people; but as the President, he is to be judged as 
the head of every other government is judged in history, not 
forgetting that responsibility is the correlative of trust, as duty 
is that of })ower. 

The alarm with which the heart of the South was smitten 
in the be<2;inninfx of 18G2, came with sudden and terrible effect. 
It was a series of disasters, tlie force of which the newspapers 
could not break by tlieir stories of " blessings in disguise " and 
the happy losses of barren positions; a blow to the hopes of 
the South which could not be muflled by equivocal dispatches 
from the War Department. The truth could no longer be 
avoided by official circumlocution. Even the few persons iu 
the South who had foreseen and calculated tlie preparations 
of the enemy were taken b}'" surprise; they had expected de- 
monstrations only in the next spring or summer; they had 
scarcely imagined that in mid-winter, when the season ])ro- 
claimed truce, the enemy would dare to have given a command 
of advance, sweeping across what was almost half a continent. 

First came the ftdl of New Orleans, an event which staggered 
all the hopes of ]<]uropcan recognition. Mr. SlidoU wrote from 
Paris privately to Mr. Davis : " If New Orleans had not fallen, 
our recognition could not have been much longcj- dclaj'ed." 
The disaster at Pishing Creek broke the Confederate line in 
Kentucky. Then followed the capture of Ports ironry and 
Donelson, the evacuation of Bowling Green and Columbus, 
and the surrender of Nashville '; the entire line of defence in 
the West was swept away, and the next array of the Confeder- 
ates was formed on the lagoons of Mississippi. Koanoke 



196 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

Island "was captured Avitli the arinv on it, and after a handfull 
of loss on the part of the enemy. It was silly of newspapeis 
to speak of these losses as those only of nnid forts and barren 
}>laces ; war is an affair of lines — a problem in geometry ; and 
it was obvious to men of calculation and reflection, that with 
two sections of defence broken down, the enemy had got not 
only a new breadth of territory, but positions of the greatest 
value — and it is curious that the Confederates never recaptured 
•mything, and that an important post once lost, was lost for 
ever. Meanwhile the army of McClellan hung like an omin- 
ous cloud on the horizon. 

There was a general alarm and demoralization of the peo- 
ple west of the Alleghanies. It is not generall}'- known that 
after the retreat of the AVestern army from Nashville, the Con- 
gressional delegation of Tennessee called on President Davis, 
and asked him to transfer the command of General Albert 
►>i<lney Johnston to some other person. It Avas a cruel mis- 
take ; for the protestants did not then know — as Mr. Davis 
was conveniently dumb — that the wide distribution of troops 
in the trans- Alleghany ordered by the President, had left 
Johnston with only 11,000 effective men to oppose Buell's 
column of -10,000 troops, while Grant's army of 60,000 had 
nothing to prevent them from ascending the Cumberland, 
leaving to the Confederate commander no alternative but to 
evacuate Nashville, or sacrifice his arm}-. 

In the midst of these disasters, Jefferson Davis was inaugu- 
rated President of the Confederate States, to continue in office 
for six years ! A worse day than the 22d of February, 1S62, 
could not have been selected for a ceremony so important. 
Mr. Davis delivered his inaugural speech at the statue of 
Washington, in the public square. It was the weakest and 
most unsatisfactory speech he ever made ; and the crowd — if 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 107 

four or five hundred persons might be called such — listened 
gloomily to the imperfect tones of his voice. He dared not 
draw a presage from the skies of this day. At his first inau- 
guration at Montgomery, ho had sijoken under smiling skies : 
and there he had said, with his rare a[)titude to draw from 
circumstances : — " It may be that as this morning opened with 
clouds, rain and mist, we shall have to encounter incon- 
veniences at the Ijeginning; but as the sun rose and lifted the 
mist, it dispersed the clouds and left us to the pure sunshine 
of heaven." But the day of the second and more important 
inauguration was clothed with sabje^ There was a mean, 
hateful rain; the pattcrings on the hundred umbrellas held 
over the crowd drowned the voice of the speaker; [)eople, 
sullen, damp, and drenched, did not care to stretcli their ears 
to catch the voice of the President, and only pitied his baie 
head in the damp atmosphere. Not a single cheer broke the 
current of his speech ; not a movement of the crowd betokened 
. its emotion. It was a piteous address. The President stretche< I 
his arms towards tlie dark sky, and cried : — " To ^JMiee, O God ! '\ 
I trustingly commit myself, and prayerfully invoke 1'hy 
blessing on my country and its cause." There was nothing 
of practical human comfort in his speech; he was forced to 
admit the disasters that had occurred, although "the final re- 
sult in our favor was not doubtful;" he had not a word to 
kindle inspiration, not a reproof with which to flog the failing 
heart of the South ; he had only this wretched nonsense to 
offer: — "The period is near at liand, lolien our foes must sink v.a- 
der the immense load of debt tliey have incurred f^ The slouched 
and gloomy crowd heard him sullenly; and no sooner had he 
concluded, than from brutal curiosity, or from a desire to save 
themselves from the weather, they rushed to the halls of Con- 
gress to see the next dull feature of the programme. 



19S LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

The "provisional " government of the Confederacy was now 
displaced. It had been nothing more than a jiolitieal struc- 
ture, designed merely for carrying on a war, which it was 
supposed would continue for only a few months ; and it is a 
fact not generally noticed or estimated, that it was designed 
at ^loutgomery to determine a ^:)t'nna»e»f system of govern- 
ment for the South, only after the war had concluded, and to 
accommodate its results. The length and pre-occupation of 
the war defeated the detail of this design, and so busy was the 
South iu its regards of the enemy in February, lSi)2 — the 
jxnnod appointed for a permanent organization of the govern- 
ment — that there was no time for the political after-thought, 
no time to execute a design, which possibly lurked in the 
minds of some of the Southern leaders, to change the form of 
government ; and thus the provisional passed into the perma- 
nent government with slight ceremony, with only the affirma- 
tion of a Constitution copied from Washington, and without 
even a canvass or an opposing candidate to question the suc- 
cession of Mr. Davis to the Presidency, or to disturb his 
authority. He ascended from the mere provisional chief of 
a rebellion to the office of President of the Confederate States, 
for the term of six years, without (]uestion, without elYort or 
concession, making no change Avhatever in his cabinet, or iu 
the executive branches of his government. 

But this curious political translation — the event of a day, 
marked only by a tawdry ceremony in the public square at 
Eichmond — had a significance which the public did not per- 
ceive. It was not known how vexed in secret council had 
been the leaders at Montgomery, in the very outset of the 
war, as to this single point of the time of adopting a j)e/-»?a?je??i 
government for the South ; and it is not yet appreciated how- 
vital was this question. It is only lately that one of the 



SECRET IIlSTOIiY OF THE COXFEDEllACY, 199 

])rincipal actors at Montgomery confessed to tlie autlior, tliat 
the adoption of a permanent form of Constitution by the South, 
Avliile the war continued, was its f;ital mistake, tluj main 
source of controversy that enfeebled and ruined it. At 
]\[ontgomery there had been a prolonged secret debate as tn 
tlie rehitivo terms oT the provisional and permanent govei-n- 
ments. The arguments on each side were singularly balanced. 
On one side it was urged that a provisional form of govern- 
ment was necessary in a state of war, on ac(;ount of its 
elasticity ; that a strict dellnition of powers was impossible at 
such a time, and that certain margins had to be alhnvcd to 
each department of the government; and that if a permanent 
Constitution was adopted while the war was still flagrant, it 
would embarrass the government with poliiical paities that 
would inevitably spring up, as making vai'ious interpretations 
of a fixed organic law. On the other side it was argued that 
the leaders at Montgomery would confess a want of confidence 
in the result of the war, to delay too long the adojition of a 
])ermanent Constitution ; that such a Constitution would be 
a signal to the people of faith in the cause, and would afford 
them that immediate guaranty they desired of the permanancy 
of their institutions. The result of the secret deliljeratio]! was 
to displace the provisional form of government one year from 
date, and to rely thereafter on permanent tenures of office. 
The extent and grief of this mistake will be understood in the 
course of our narrative. It not only inflicted upon the South 
a permanent President, who could not be removed unless \)v 
resolution; but it was the immediate source of those parties 
which embarrassed the conduct of the war, Avliich raised the 
most untimely [jolitical (juestions in the midst of hostilities, 
and which, once having adjusted the Procrustean bed of consti- 
tutional scruples, insisted on measuring upon it every act of 



200 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the govermneut, and compelling to its tost even- necessity and 
exio-eucv of the war. It was certainly a great error. If the 
''history of the late war proved anything clearl3% it is that in 
the vigorous prosecution of arms, the measures of consti- 
tutional organic law, provided in a time of peace, must be re- 
laxed ; and although much has been heard of th.at supertlcial 
]ilatitude, that one Constitution will serve for war as well as 
for peace, that the powers of government are to be the same 
in all cases, the experience of mankind has almost invariably 
avowed to the contrarj^ The fact is, that JelYerson Davis, in 
presuming to accept the office of President, as one of perma- 
nent nature, and in allowing himself to be fettered by the 
fixed and unelastic law of a Constitution, stiffly copied from 
the United States, did, in his eagerness for the gauds of official 
title, make a mistake that he rued to the end of his career, 
that at once beset him with political parties, and that created 
an embarrassment of his government, from which he was 
never relieved. What door was opened to political contro- 
versy in the midst of war, by the adoption of a permanent 
tbrm of Constitution at Richmond, and the declaration, as it 
were, of a fixed model of government, remains to be seen. 

In this event, however, there was one subject of congratu- 
lation — one change in the political constituents at Eichmond. 
that promised some improvement. It was the assemblage of 
a Congress of new fashion and material, after the Provisional 
Congress that had meanly expired on the 22d of February. 
Tlie latter had been but one house — possibly from the idea 
tliat a single legislative body was most efficient in time of war. 
Now the Confederate Legislature was divided into a Senate 
and House of Representatives, after the fashion of the old 
government at Washington. 

Thomas S. Bocock was elected Speaker of the House, and 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 201 

on taking the cliair lie rna'le a suggestive speech, indicating 
the hard experiment of a change of organic law in the inid.st 
of war, and calling Congress up to an elevated standard of 
<luty. He declared that the gaze of the world was fixed upon 
Kichmond, in another interest than that of military campaigns. 
"Nations," he said, " look on, curious to see how this new sys- 
tem of government will move off, and what manner of men have 
been chosen to guide its earliest movements. It is, indeed, 
a new system, for, though coinciding in many particulars with 
that under which we lived so long, it yet differs from it in many 
essentials. When the Constitution of 1787 was put in oper- 
ation, the war of the Revolution had been successfully closed. 
Peace prevailed throughout the whole land, and hallowed all 
its borders. The case with our Constitution is very different. 
It is put into operation in time of war, and its first movements 
are disturbed by the shock of battle. Its trial is one created 
by the urgencies of this contest. The question to be decided 
is, whether, without injury to its own integrity, it can supply 
tiie machinery, and afford the means requisite to conduct this 
war to that successful conclusion which the people, in their 
heart of hearts, have resolved on, and which, I trust, has been 
decreed in that higher <;ourt from whose decisions there is no 
appeal. . The solution of this question is in the bosom of the 

future Can our political system legitimately afford 

the means to carry the war to a successful conclusion? If 
not, it must ]jcrish; but a successful result must be achieved. 
Bat it must be destroyed, not by the hand of violence, or by 
the taint of perjury ; it must go out peacefully, and in pursu- 
ance of its own provisions. Better submit to momentary in- 
convenience than to injure representative honor, or violate 
])ublic faith. In the whole book of expedients there is no 
]ilace for falsehood or perjury." 



202 LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

It was a brave manly voice in Congress. There was hope 
uow that there would be an infusion of new blood and vigor 
in this Avithered branch of the Government. It commenced 
well, with the passage of a conscription law, in place of the 
old system of volunteers. The critical value of this law may 
be estimated from the fact that nearly two-thirds of the forces 
with which General Lee, some months later, saved Richmond 
from the hosts of McClellan, were gathered under its opera- 
tions. It saved the Confederacy for the time, and gave a 
new lease to the war. But it is to be remarked that the con- 
scription law was not properly produced by Congress, but 
had been prepared for it before it met, by the press, even to 
details, Congress only adopting it from the columns of the 
newspapers, and only after the latter had carefully brought 
public opinion up to the necessary point of sacrifice. If any 
one is to stand as author of this law, it is the Eichmond 
Eraminer. When it first proposed such a measure, another 
journal, popularly known as J\[r. Davis's organ, opposed it, 
and actually scofl:ed it as a reflection on the patriotism of 
the South. Mr. Davis — who had that wretched and danger- 
ous vanity which resents the tone of suggestion, no matter 
what the value of the counsel it would impart, and who, 
besides, had his own reasons to hate the Examiner — was 
long in being brought to the conscription ; and he at last 
ungracefully and imperfectly yielded the recommendation 
wliich the necessity of the case extorted from his pride of 
opinion. lie referred to it only in weak and partial phrases, 
but with a remarkable Jesuitism, having at once the shame- 
lessness and the shallowness to pretend that the conscription, 
instead of testifying to any necessity in the Soutli for troops, 
was really intended to moderate the rage for volunteering. 
H.e wrote a paltry and detestable falsehood rather than an 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COyFEDEKACY. 203 

ingenious statement. In liis message to Congress Le de- 
clared : " Tlie operation of the various laws now in force for 
raising armies has exhibited the necessity for reform. . . . 
The vast preparations made by the enemy for a combined 
assault at numerous points on our frontier and seaboard, 
have produced results that might have been expected. 
They have animated the people with a spirit of resistance so 
general, so resolute, and so self-sacrificing, that it requires 
ratlier to he regulated than stimulated P'' 

In the conscription law, Congress demanded from the 
people the greatest of sacrifices ; and it followed the act by 
resolutions, offered by Mr. Eawles, of Alabama, and unard- 
rnoushj adopted, announcing to the world that "it is the 
unalterable determination of the people of the Confederate 
States to suffer all the calamities of the most protracted war, 
but that they will never, on any terms, politically affiliate 
with a people who are guilty of an invasion of their soil and 
the butchery of their citizens." Would it be believed that 
after such testimonies, this Congress would, a few weeks 
later, give, in the person of its own members, an exhibition 
of the most arrant cowardice and the meanest selfishness — 
an exhibition almost incredible, and unparalleled, perhaps, in 
similar historical circumstances in modern times! 

But Ave reserve this exhibition for the course of time ; and 
we turn for a moment to a most remarkable incident in this 
Congress — on which the reader may build all the romantic 
speculations he pleases. 

There were two notable men returned to the Congress 
meeting at the inauguration of President Davis. One of 
them was Mr. Foote of Mississippi, a man who had been for 
a long time a curiosity in the politics of the country. Mr. 
Davis is reported to have described his fellow-citizen, as "a 



20-4 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

man of no aoeonnt or credit;"' — and hero we may remark 
that whatever the truth of his estimate in this instance, his 
freedom of animadversion on the character of persons around 
his administration, as ilkistrated in the "Prison Conversa- 
tions," hitely published, does not suggest that abstinence of 
criticism for the President himself! which his friends would 
plead ibr him, as a broken old man who had outlived the 
resentments of his life, and who harbored nothing but a 
desire to die in peace, ^[r. Davis since the war has spoken 
with great bitterness of other characters in the Confederacy ; 
yet his partisans are ever ready to raise their hands sensi- 
tiveh' against any historical inquest of himself, and to say 
that nothing but what is good and merciful should be spoken 
of a man who is no more dead than Johnston, Beauregard, 
or even the redoubtable Poote himself. But to return to 
the curiosity of ^lississippi — the Guhernaior Pes. He was a 
man of learning, even erudite in historical illustrations ; be 
was remarkable for the Latinitu of his style; but he had the 
most indecent itch for notoriety ; he was constantly grasp- 
ing at everything that promised sensation ; his fidgets in 
Congress, his sudden apparitions as jack-in-the-box, his lofty 
combativeness (once taken down a peg by a challenge from 
John Mitchel) made him the amusement of the wiser mem- 
bers, the terror of timid country delegates, and the stock of 
the newspaper reporters, lie had had an old quarrel with 
Mr. Davis in the Lx'al politics of Mississippi; but he came 
to the Congress at Kichmond, professing that the (piarrel had 
been completel}'' cured, and exhibiting much more than was 
necessary an autograph letter from ^[r. Davis, tendering 
reconciliation and ex[n"essing the highest considei'ation, re- 
gard, and friendship, for the gentleman who had so happily 
returned from a political adventure in California, to support 



SECRET IIISTOliV OF THE C(»XFEI>EKAC^'. 205 

Douglas fertile Pi'cshlcncy, next to clcchiiin against Buchanan 
(or not crushing South Carolina, ami now to ofl'er his estima- 
ble service to the cause of the Southern Confederacj/ ! " Tni 
ou excellent terms with "Slv. Davis, excellent terms, sir: only 
see what he says of me in his letter," wei'c woi-Js willi which 
]^\)ote bored all comers, aiul the i)roclamation with which he 
took his seat in Congress. 

'i'he other oF the notable dvo of this body, to be inti-oduced 
to the reader on a special occasion, was Mr. Boyce oi" South 
Carolina. Apparently a cold, ascetic man ; but one who had 
a larger record of gallantries than any other Congressman iu 
liichmond; a ])erson without ambiiion, without any tlesire 
for juiblic distinction (and in abilities, he was really second 
to no member of Congress) yet full of the ))assion of intrigue, 
siuistei', devious, amusing himself with masks and puppets, 
a man who would make a couspii-acy to relieve his ennui, if 
ior nothing else. 

These two men became adei'wai'ds notoi'ious in the South, 
for having morally deserted the Conlederate cause at a 
certain period; and since the war they are remembered as 
having shown an especial aptitude for "reconstruction."' 

j Mr. Foote fled from the Confederacy before the war had con- 
cluded ; and at the period of this excursion, Mr. Boyce was 

1 earnestly advocating a peace convention in Congress. It is 
in view of the subsequent histories of these two particular 
men that what we are about to relate becomes significant. 

, No sooner had the new Congress of the Confederacy met 
than Messrs. Foote and Boyce commenced a violent clamor 
foi' an immediate movement from every point on the enemy's 
lines. These two men were the only members who s})oke tu 
this efl'ect, and they spoke in evident concert. On the very 
day the President's Message was sent in, ATr. Foote sprurig to 



206 LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

his feet in great heat, deekired that Judge Harris of Missis- 
sippi had dedared that Mr. Davis was Avilling to take the 
military aggressive, if Congress would signify its pleasure to 
this eft'ect ; and in a speech, which had evidently been pre- 
pared, he exhorted members to accept a resolution that " it 
will be the duty of the government of the Confederate States 
to impart all possible activity to our military forces every- 
where, and to assail the forces of the enemy wherever they 
are to be found, whether upon the land or water." He said 
that he Avas in favor of a vigorous onward movement of the 
Confederate armies ; he desired that the Yankees should be 
made to pay the whole expenses of the war, that the com- 
mercial magnates of New York, Boston, and Philadelphia, 
should be compelled to unlock their strong boxes, and to in- 
demnify the South for losses which they had imposed upon 
her. He desired above all things to drive the enemy bcyouil the 
Southern borders. All this he would have, and nothing less. 
The Confederate armies should pass into Maryland — heroic 
Maryland — rescue Baltimore and Annapolis, cut oft' the rail- 
road communication with the North ; and if this had been 
done months before, the independence, Avhich the South had 
now to purchase with a vast expenditure of blood and treasure, 
could have been secured at loss than one-fourth of what the 
Y/ar had already cost. 

Not five minutes after Mr. Foote had ceased this rhetorical 
bravado and taken his seat, Mr. Boy ce succeeded him in a vet 
more singular speech, urging an advance upon the enemv's 
lines. He said: — "We should have pursued from the tirst 
more of an aggressive policy, which would have given a~ \)0- 
sition to the Southern States ; it would have encouraged our 
friends and discouraged our enemies, and such a policy had 
been indicated by our distinguished President from Mississippi 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 207 

when on liis way to be inaugurated as President of tne Pro- 
visional Government, that we should wage war on the enemy's 
own ground. Mr. L. P. Walker, the former Secretary of 
AVar, had said, at an early day, that tlu; fhig of the South 
sliould float shortly over the Capitol at Washington. He, the 
speaker, had thought the expression unwise at that time. Wo 
should have talked peace and acted war; used peaceful terms, 
but prepared f(jr active war. Audacity ! audacity ! audacity ! 
is the key to success. Make no show of fear ; prosecute the 
war with great vigor. Talk of risk ! have we not risked a 
resolution ? and shall we see it fail ? " 

It is remarkuble of this strenuous advice delivered by 
Foote and Boyce — by only tliesc two members in the whole 
body of Congress — that it would inevitably have sacrificed 
the South, and been a sliort cut to its ruin. Why this sudden 
anxiety that the Confederate lines should be advanced, ex- 
pressed by these two particular men in Congress? Must they 
not have known that an aggressive movement of the South at 
this time would have been to consign it to certain destruction, 
to have thrown it into the jaws of an enemy six times its su- 
perior in strength? They must have known the obvious 
facts of the military situation. They must have known that 
the enlistments of tlie Confederate soldiers for twelve months, 
commencing immediately upon the secession of the States to 
Avhich they belonged, were about ex})ii'ing; they must have 
known that Johnston's army in Northern Virginia had 
dwindled to thirty-odd thousand men; they must have known 
that the operations in the "West had swei)t the Confederate 
line of defence from near Cumberland Gap to the Mississippi, 
and raising the blockade of the upper portions of that river, 
had even passed into Arkansas; they must have known that 
it was the period of greatest weakness in the South, when the 



208 LIFE OF JKFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

vital conceni was to recruit and to re-organize ; and at such a 
time, and in such an exigency, to have taken advantage of 
the vulgar flatulence, about carrying the war into the enemy's 
country, and to have urged that the South should throw all 
that remained of its armies on an enemy, who had brough*; 
liis troops into camp during the latter part of ISGi ; who had 
already organized and drilled them; who had prepared the 
immense materials necessary for an active campaign; who in 
such preparations was, at least, four months in advance of the 
Confederate Government, and who already outnumbered them 
in the field, six to one, was, to say the least, a suspicious 
counsel, and one which could scarcely have been made in the 
sincere interest of an endangered and critical government. 

But if Foote and Bo3'ce designed the early destruction of 
the Southern Confederacy, they were disappointed. The 
resolution offered by the former was laid on the table. It 
was the episode of a day; but it preserves the curious remem- 
brance, that these two men, who subsequently nnide such in- 
decent haste to submission, were the loudest and bi'azenest 
champions for vengeance upon the North (even to the robbery 
of banks in its cities) at a memorable period, in which the 
severe alternative is, that they must have been either miser- 
able time-servers, or deep and infamous conspirators. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 209 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Militiu-y Cciiiilitioii (il'llio Soiitlu rii Coiifodunicy — Tiiiiiiinist' Political Significance of tho Cotiscrip- 
ticiii Law — U noccsHiii'ily Cliiuigod tlie Cliiiriictoi' ol' tlio Govcrnmont — First Appoiiniiice -i 
I'oliticiil I'lirlies iigainst l'ri'sitl(Mit Davis — Soiiio Account of Oovornor Jo. Hrown of (looij^iu — 
Ati liifiinunis Undoi-plot against tlioConfi'tlenicy — The Conscription Law Unconstitutinniil, liut 
.hiHlilialilc — Mr. Davi»'H lioast of Superior Liberty in the Simtli Exploded — How lie had to 
Swalliiw lii.s Wordti — .V Military Despotism at Kicliniond — Two Notable Sequela to the Cou- 
ncription Law — A Terrible Keproof from Mr. Hunter in tho Senate — Outrages of Winder's 
Police — A Description of tlio Fouch6 of tho Southern Confederacy — Anecdote of Winder — 
Alarm in lUclimond at McClellan's Advance — Tlio Federal Commander u|) a Tree — Shameful 
and Cowardly Flight of the Confederate Congress — rrosldent Davis Secretly llosolves to 
Evacuate Kiclimond — lie Changes his Ue.solution — A'AVitticisin of Oonoral Leo — Excitement 
in Kichniond on account of tho Destiuction of the Virgiuia-Merrimac — A Littleness of Ex- 
pedients as Characteristic of tho Contedorato Administration — It Advertises for Scrap Iron and 
OM lirass — Anecdote of Secretaiy Memmiuger — Ajijieal of "Tho Old Lady" — A Notable As- 
sembly in JUcliMiond — "Tho Liulies' Onn-l!oat " and an Oyster Supper. 

If tlic Southern Gourcdorucy luul moved on tlie enemy, when 
Messrs. Foote and Boyce urged aggression, it would have 
been dashed to pieces. Indeed, even if it had been content to 
wait for the attack of the enemy at this time, without a new 
eflbrt to recruit and to re-organize, it would have been the 
easy prey of overwhelming numbers. The calculation was 
thus made in a liiehmond paper: "Had the Confederacy lain 
still two months more, with the army dwindling daily under 
the furlough system, disgusted witli the inaction of stationary 
camps, while the government was quarreling with thcGenerals, 
and the people sinking under indifference, we would have 
been overrun between the 15th of April and the 15th of 
May." 

The Conscription Law undoubtedly saved the Confederacy ^y^ 
from the armies of the enemy, and it is so far to be com- 
14 



210 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

'mended. But while such was its military beneficence, its 
moral and political effects were certainly disastrous. If it 
saved the arms of the Confederacy, it yet, of necessity, estab- 
lished at Kichmond a dcsjwiism — a rule, which, however it 
might claim to be just anil kindly in its views, was yet essen- 
tially a despotism, according to every test which distinguishes 
forms of government. In the first place, the moral import of 
the law was unfiivorablc ; it was a confession that the ardor of 
the people of the South had ceased to be a safe medium of 
reliance in the conduct of the war, and it was the first marked 
occasion of those desertions from the Confederate armies, 
which afterwards became the crying evil and shame of the 
South. Its political significance was immense and unavoid- 
able. It necessarily established a consolidated government, 
founded on military principles ; it was a departure from all 
the constitutional precedents known in the country, a direct 
assanlt upon State Eights, a declaration that the powers of 
Mr. Davis, and his Congress, were henceforward to be meas- 
ured by military necessities, instead of being contained in a 
written Constitution. 

And here we are recommitted to the thought suggested in 
the preceding chapter: — that the adoption of a permanent 
Constitution in the midst of the war was a mistake, that it 
threw an untimely fetter on its operations, and that it was 
likely to produce jiolitical parties that would embarrass the 
government. In striking illustration of this thought, we find 
that almost the first act of the government at Eichmond, after 
adopting such a Constitution, was to break it in its most vital 
part, under the pressure of a great necessity; and that this act, 
of itself, created a moral distemper in the Confederacy, and 
was, indeed, the signal of the first appearance of organized 
parties in opposition to the government of Mr. Davis. 



SECRET HISTORY OK THE CONFEDERACY. 211 

The conscription law was at once seized as political capital, 
and by men who had a much deeper design than that of con- 
testing a particular measure, and who liad the opportunity 
thrust into their hands of kindling popukir dissatisfaction and 
undermining the Confederate cause. Governor Joseph Brown 
of Georgia, came out against the measure in flaming procla- 
mations and speeches ; he defied the conscript officers com- 
missioned at Richmond to touch the militia of his State ; he 
opened a correspondence with President Davis that lasted for 
months, had it printed in a pamphlet and hawked through 
the streets of every city in the South. His suspicious industry 
in this respect drew upon him the attention of the wliolo 
South ; and it was asked what were really the motives of this 
person in thus sowing the seeds of political controversy, while 
the enemy was tliundcring at the gates of liichmond, and 
while his own State, whose troops he wished to remain at 
home as militia for its protection, basked in security with not 
an enemy within a hundred miles of it. The point of contro- 
versy was, that Governor Brown insisted that under the Ci in- 
stitution, the President could use the military forces of Georgia 
only as militia and through the forms of a call on the State 
authorities "to repel invasion." Mr. Davis replied: "If this 
Government cannot call on its arms-bearing population more 
than as militia, and if the militia can only be called forth to 
repel invasion, we should be utterly helpless to vindicate our 
honor or protect our rights. War has been styled 'the ter- 
rible litigation of nations.' Have we formed our government 
that in litigation we may never be plaintiffs?" 

It was obvious that Governor Brown had the wi'itten pro- 
visionsof the Constitution on his side. He had the advan- 
tage of appealing n(jt only to the letter of the law, but to old 
political prejudices against a centralization of power; it was 



212 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

an excellent chance for vapor ; he wrote long letters on con- 
stitutional law and the love of liberty; and he even challenged 
the Legislature of the State to pronounce that the conscription 
law was of no effect, and not to be obej^ed within the limits 
of Georgia. 

Whatever may have been the technical merits of the posi- 
tion of this opponent of President Davis, enough is now 
known of his subsequent conduct to support the explanation 
that he had merely raised a false clamor with the ultimate 
design of Aveakening and betraying the Confederacy. He 
was fulsome in his declarations of devotion to the success of 
the Avar ; he vied with Mr. Davis in his expressions of hostil- 
ity tOAvards the North ; and yet this vile person, under the 
plea for the integrity of State Eights, Avas secretl}^ trying 
to pave the Avay for the success of the centralized government 
of the North, and under the color of an excessively pnre and 
hypercritical Southern party, Avas really marshalling the old 
elements of the Union taction distributed through Georgia, 
Tennessee and North Carolina, and Avas compassing the con- 
spiracy of a traitor. It Avas one of the most shameful under^ 
plots of the Avar. Something may be said here of its infamoqs 
chief, Avhom President Davis having first cozened and perhaps 
misunderstood, afterAvard pronounced a "scoundrel" on the soil 
of his State, Avhom the South has since disoAvned as an inflic- 
tion npon her honor, and Avith Avhom the country has been 
recently amused as an unmasked hypocrite and superfluous 
trifler on the stage of public life. 

Joe BroAvn, as he Avas popularly named, made a great noise 
in the war from the first time he resisted the conscription, and 
was adroit enough to get Mr. Davis into a printed controversy 
with him. He Avas the coarse, obese prince of Southern dem- 
agogues. There were various accounts of his low origin, and 



SECRET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDERACY. 213 

of the vulgar associations of his life before he had been ele- 
vated to the Governorship of Georgia; but the most that is 
certainly knoAvn of this period of his existence is that he had 
been a "sand-hill cracker" in South Carolina, whore he was 
born, scratching a piece of poor land for subsistence, and 
trading on the skirts of the large plantations. The person 
who made this wonderful ascent in political life, found a no- 
toriety and advantage in the war by indulging a controversial 
mood, and opening issues of old parties. His game with 
President Davis was to " out-herod Ilerod " in the matter of 
State Rights. In this pretence, he kept up a constant excla- 
mation of Ids earnest and passionate desire, even in excess of 
Mr. Davis, to whip the enemy and accomplish independence ; 
he excelled in " Yankeephobia," and in all the incandescent 
sentituents of the original Secession party; but under cover 
of these cries of excessive Southern fervor, he was doing his 
best to embarrass the government and to disband its armies. 
It was not without reason that Mr. Davis dictated a dispatch 
sent to him and signed by the Secretary of War: — "I think 
we m^'ht as well drive out our common enemy before we 
make war on each other." 

In our commentary on the constitutionality of the conscrip- 
tion law, Ave are not to be mistaken. It did transcend the 
Constitution adopted at Richmond ; it was essentially a revo- 
lutionary measure ; but we are persuaded that the true dis- 
tinction as to the assumption of irregular and extraordinar}^ 
powers in a state of war is a moral one, to be decided by 
good or bad effects; and as this law certainly did save the 
Confederacy, we must consider it as a beneficent stretch of 
power, and account opposition to it as a single measure, un- 
tenable, unwise, and unpatriotic. We respe(.;t the thought that 
we have elsewhere suggested, that organic laws in time of war 



214 LIFE OF JEFFEESON DAVIS, WITH A 

must be stretched; the true question becomes whether the 
enlargement of power in the government is really turned to 
just purposes and good results. The conscription law ac- 
complished its own justification. But what was unfortunate 
of it was that it necessarily placed the government on the basis 
of military necessity, that it thus essentially revolutionized its 
whole character, and that it was naturally followed by breaches 
of the Constitution, which became successively larger, and for 
which there was no adequate justification. When a section of 
constitutional law is once broken down, the citadel of li])erty 
is soon taken. 

And so it swiftly proved at Richmond. Heretofore Mr. 
Davis in all his public addresses had declared that the Con- 
federate Government was established to preserve their 
"ancient institutions;" he constantly pointed to the disregard 
wliich the North had shown of civil liberty, to its suspension 
of habeas corpiis, to bastiles filled wdth prisoners, arrested with- 
out legal process or indictment : and no later than the day of 
his second inauguration, he had co]igratulated the South that 
" through all the necessities of an unequal struggle there has 
been no act on our part, to impair personal liberty, or the 
freedom of speech, of thought, or of the press." This argu- 
ment of superior liberty in the Confederacy, had been ad- 
vanced on every occasion; the preservation of the civil 
routine in a time of war, had been the habitual boast of Mr. 
Davis. Now he was compelled to swallow this bit of glitter- 
ing stereotype. For in a few weeks there was exhibited in 
Richmond a military tyranny that outdid "the strong 
government " at Washington, that committed outrages of 
which tlie newspapers spared accounts, and of which subse- 
quent narratives of the war have only given imperfect 
glimpses, but which were unexcelled in the history of sudden 
and violent usurpations. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 215 

To the conscription law there were two notable sequels : — 
one an attempt to prescribe the production of the country — 
the ultima thule of despotism : the other the establishment of 
a military police, of the most frightful and odious description. 
The first usurpation failed, at least to the extent it designed, 
but only by a slender majority in the Confederate Senate. 
It had been at first proposed there to "advise" the planters 
of the South to abstain from raising cotton and tobacco, so^ 
as to increase the product of grain and provisions in the 
country. For this proposition Mr. Brown, of Mississippi, 
offered a substitute, to curtail the cotton crop ; providing in 
detail that no planter or head of a family should sow more 
cotton seed than would produce three bales of the staple for 
himself, and one bale for each of the hands employed in the 
culture during the year 1862, and that he should be sworn 
to the extent of his crop under a penalty for perjury. It is 
an illustration of the rapid advance of despotic ideas in 
Richmond, that such a proposition should have been even 
entertained. The Government, protested Mr. Hunter of 
Virginia, had not the shadow of a right to go to any of the 
States, and say, how much cotton should be produced. The 
sovereignty of the States themselves hardly dare do this, 
much less the delegated power of the Confederac}''. If he 
believed that Congress would pass any such act, or the 
Government possessed any such power, he would pronounce 
it a most notorious despotism, " worse even than that from 
which the people of the South had just escaped." The in- 
famous bill failed through only three votes in the Senate ; 
but Mr, Hunter's denunciation of it, and of the tendency it 
exhibited to despotic rule was conveniently omitted from 
the newspapers, while it smarted in the ears of Mr. Davis. 

The worst despotism however into which the President 



216 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

plunged, alarmed by the military disasters that had occurred 
and by the now visible approach of McClellan's army to 
Kichmond was to declare martial law for ten miles around 
the capital, and to supplant all the civil authorities by a 
militar}^ police, of the vilest materials that could be raked 
from the dens, or fished from the slums of his dissolute 
capital. Every one who lived in Richmond in those days 
has cause to remember " Winder's Police." The excuse 
Avhich Mr. Davis made for fastening on the city the atrocious 
curse of these creatures was that a Union sentiment was 
being developed as McClellan advanced, that summary ar- 
rests of suspected persons might become necessary, and that 
a new vigilance was necessary to guard against political 
conspiracies. There was, indeed, a great uneasiness in 
Richmond as the Federal army gathered around it ; the air 
was poisoned by rumors and suspicions; there was a neces- 
sity for vigilance and vigor. But a police composed of 
rowdies and gamblers imported from Baltimore as non-con- 
scripts, the vilest of adventurers, who might without legal 
process tear any citizen from his home, who made domicili- 
ary visits at pleasures, who could write anonymous denuncia- 
tions, who trafficked in bribes, from whom no man was safe, 
and against whom there was no ju'otection of sex or condi- 
tion, was not a measure calculated to re-assure the anxiety 
of the public, or to improve its confidence in, or affection for 
Mr. Davis. It introduced a new and terrible distrust in the 
community. There were two hundred, spies employed in 
Richmond, and no man's conversation was safe from them. 
The newspapers did not publish the arrests, or only as the 
scantiest items ; and although but few persons were actually 
imprisoned on account of tlieir political sentiments, the cases 
were many where respectable citizens, among them ladies, were 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 217 

conveyed to certain tribunals held in drinking-shops and the 
" pens " of negro-traders and " warned " by police magnates 
of the President.* 

At the head of this wretched police business, which in 
some form or other continued through the administration of 
Mr. Davis, he placed a m.an than whom a fitter exponent of 
despotism and cruelty could not be found within the limits j 
of the South. This person was General Winder, of Maryland, | 
— a name that thousands of living persons yet recall with 
horror ; and a character that deserves an especial study in 

* An incident illustrating the outrages and effrontery of this politi- 
cal police, is recollected by the author. In a boarding-house in 
Richmond was an estimable lady, a native of Virginia, who owned a 
large estate of negroes in Culpeper county. She had been very 
much annoyed by the desertion of her slaves ; and hearing of the 
flight of one of the most valuable of them, she exclaimed to a com- 
pany assembled in the parlor, '^IdoAvish the Yankees would come 
and take away all the negroes." It was nothing more than a petu- 
lant remark— such as one living in the South might hear a hundred 
times, when the mistress of the house was disposed to describe her 
slaves as pests and sources of annoyance. The remark through 
some channel, was reported to General Winder, " Commanding the 
Department of Henrico." The next day, the lady was called to the 
door by a shabby stranger ; she came back running into the parlor, 
weeping, and praying some gentleman in the house to protect her. 
She liad received the dread summons to attend before General 
Winder, on a charge of uttering treasonable sentiments ! There 
could be no opposition or escape ; the detective was at the door, im- 
portunate for his victim. It was only Avhcn this accomplished and 
delicately nurtured lady had Ijeen compelled to walk nearly a mile 
through the street, to enter a mean building recently used as a 
drinking-shop, to press through a throng of rumsellers and rowdies 
to the "clirty throne of Winder, and to humbly protest there, that her 
offence had been temper and not treason, that she was allowed to de- 
part on the brutal injunction to ''hold her tongue in future." 



218 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the moral history of the war. At first sight this person was 
not unpleasant. Mr. Ely, the memorable State prisoner of 
the Libby, speaks of General Winder, then his principal 
jailor, as an agreeable grey-headed ofiicer, a little stiff and 
disposed to stand on his dignity, prim and neat to scrupu- 
lousness, but having no traits of harshness in his manner or 
countenance. But this impression was not that of a close 
study. This man whom President Davis had found in some 
obscure place in the old army, and kept to the end of his 
Administration as his chief of military police, and head-jailor 
of the Confederacy, was near sixty years of age ; his hair was 
white and tufty ; and at a distance he had a patriarchal ap- 
pearance. But his face was a picture of cruelty, a- study for 
an artist ; a harsh dry face ; cruel eyes, not muddy as from 
temper, but with a clear cold light in them ; a faded, poison- 
ous mouth on which a smile seemed mockery. 

Under martial law proclaimed in Eichmond, this creature 
held in his hands the powers of a viceroy. He w^s responsi- 
ble to no one but Mr. Davis. He ordered what arrests he 
pleased ; he regulated trade ; he gave permits for the trans- 
portation of goods ; he hunted conscripts through the streets. 
As a curious specimen of his authority, we may quote a single 
order : — " The obtaining by conscripts of substitutes through 
the medium of agents is strictly forbidden. When such agents 
are employed, the principal, the substitute, and the agent, will 
be impressed into the military service, and the money paid 
for the substitute, and as a reward to the agent, will be confis- 
cated to tlie government !" It is almost incredible that such 
despotic edicts could be issued in the capital of the Southern 
Confederacy ; but here they were, written under the eye of 
Mr. Davis, and put in the hands of his creature for execution. 
Winder carried the interests of Richmond in his pocket. If 



SECRKT HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERAUY. 219 

a citizen wished to commute for military duty, if a merchant 
desired to secure the sacrifice of his flour and bacon from the 
tariff of prices under martial law, if a liquor-dealer wished to 
bring into the city a lot of apple-brandy, Winder had to be 
seen, and his favor had to be secured. He was courted, 
caressed ; people of all sorts sent him presents; and when an 
acquaintance suggested to him that it was imprudent to 
receive such testimonies of regard, and that they might be 
coarsely interpreted as bribes, the reply was : — " If the devil 
himself chooses to send me presents, I don't see why I 
should not accept them." He had a curious habit about 
these offerings ; they seldom availed to obtain any return 
from him. His peculiarity in this respect suggests a de- 
scription in Macaulay of the infamous Jeffreys, to the effect 
that he would often carouse with the meanest men ; but 
when he was sober on the bench, and his companions of the 
night before would presume on the maudlin affection they 
had contracted in their cups, he would pretend not to know 
them, and would drown their attempts at familiarity in 
volleys of wrath and imprecation. There was a striking 
analogy to such behavior in the relations of Winder and his 
gift-bearers. He invariably accepted anything sent him in 
the shape of a present; the ingenious wretch who had sent it, 
perhaps to escape the conscription, or to get a permit to 
traffic in liquors, would felicitate himself that he had secured 
his concession, that the business was done ; but the next day 
would come an order to clap him in the conscript camp, or 
to impound all the whiskey on his premises. It was a feline 
way the General had of playing with his victims, and must 
have been intensely gratifying to a nature like his. The 
unhappy bearer of gifts seldom escaped from his clutches — 
the gifts never. 



220 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Meanwhile McClellan continued to advance, and his Avhite 
tents already gdeamed on the rank banks of the Chickahominy. 
His toilsome marches up the Peninsula had brought him 
within sight of the house-tops of Eichmond ; and he had 
approached what appeared to be the grand consummation of 
liis hopes. As his army took its position near Eichmond, he 
climbed a loft}^ tree — it was too near his adversary's lines to 
send up a balloon; — from his leafy perch he saw bending 
around the devoted city the long line of his troops, the array 
of blue and gilt glittering in the sun, the black fangs of the 
batteries in the forest; beyond them patches of "grey-backs" 
half-concealed in the underbrush or peering out from sodden 
marshes, the slovenly semblance of the army Avhich he im- 
agined he had driven to its last imperfect cover, all that was 
between him and victory. The commander descended from 
the tree. It was not a dignified post of observation ; but it 
must have afforded him a charming prospect, for, having 
reached the ground, he threw his arms around a subordinate 
officer, and exclaimed, " We've got them." 

And there were thousands of persons in Eichmond who then 
believed that the grand army had "got" them, and who 
already seemed to feel the weight of arrest on their shoulders. 
No assurance had yet been given by President Davis that the 
capital was to be defended to extremity. It was a memorable 
season of popular alarm ; there were uneasy whispers in Eich- 
mond ; a panic was threatened ; and it was just that critical 
period when the authorities were required and called upon to 
do everything to nourish and sustain public confidence. We 
have seen a few pages back, what declarations of desperate 
courage the Confederate Congress had made. Now tlie in- 
famous response of this body to the popular alarm was to 
exceed it, to adjourn precipitately, and to break up in confu- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 221 

sion, its members fleeing to the safety of their obscure homes, 
amid the execrations of the press, the hootiugs of the populace, 
and with even the contempt of the women thrown after them. 
The shame of the fugacious Congress was in the mouth of 
■ every one in Richmond. It was one of the most contemptible 
and ludicrous incidents of the war. The shop-windows were 
filled wdth caricatures of it — one of the most popular, and 
wjjich might be considered to have originated the tradition of 
the carpet-hag, representing a fat and terrified Congressman, 
with his slight baggage in hand, pursued by a gun-boat, the 
apparition of a magnified insect mounted on spindle legs. 
The cowardice of the Congress in this flight from McClellan 
was so extravagant that the people of Richmond actually took 
heart from its contrast to their own reasonable fears, in which 
they had not yet lost their self-possession, and amused them- 
selves in ridiculing and lampooning it.* 

The true history of this uneasiness in Richmond is, that 
President Davis had secretly resolved to evacuate Richmond. 
What was at that time an angry suspicion is now ascertained 
to have been an actual fact. It is a remarkable circumstance 
that up to the time General Johnston fell wounded in the 

* The Eichmond "TF/iiy" announced the hasty adjournment and 
its consequences in the following paragraph : 

For fear of accident on the railroad, the stampeded Congress left 
in a number of the strongest and newest canal-boats. These boats 
are drawn by mules of approved sweetness of temper. To protect 
the stampeders from the snakes and bull-frogs that abound along the 
line of the canal. General Winder lias detailed a regiment of ladies to 
march in advance of the mules, and clear the tow-path of the pirates. 
The ladies will accompany the stampeders to a secluded cave in the 
mountains of Ilepsidan, and leave them there in chai-ge of the children 
of the vicinage, until McClellan thinks proper to let them come forth. 
The ladies return to the defence of their country. 



222 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

battle of Seven Pines, Mr. Davis had obstinately refused the 
recommendations of this commander (with whom he seemed 
determined never to act in concert) to draw in any consider- 
able forces from other parts of the South to defend Eichmond 
— a condition which Johnston had named as essential to the 
fafety of the capital. He had sent his wife to a country re- 
treat in North Carolina ; he had bestowed the most important 
papers of the government in boxes ticketed for Columbia, 
South Carolina ; and whenever approached on the subject of 
the defence of Richmond, he had shown an equivocation and 
an anxiety from which no assurance was derived, and from 
which the most distressful rumors were bred. A day for 
public fasting and prayer was appointed ; the President 
betook himself to the consolations of religion. He was 
"confirmed" in the Episcopal Church; and a circumstance 
ordinarily so solemn and delicate, was interpreted in a curious 
way by the fears and superstitions of the public impressed by 
the coincidence of Mr. Davis's religious conversion and the 
extremity of his Government. The President was represented 
as " standing in a corner telling his beads and relying on a 
miracle to save the country, instead of mounting his horse 
and putting forth every human })ower to defeat the enemy." 
His indecision, his religious melancholy, his equivocal speeches 
were texts of almost savage complaint in the newspapers. 

For once Mr. Davis bowed to popular opinion ; and after 
a visit of a committee of the Virginia Legislature, it became 
generally known that the fiat had been distinctly written out 
that Richmond was to be defended, and that a new disposition 
of the Confederate forces was to be made to assure its safety. 
It was the summons of a new spirit in the army, and an occa- 
sion of congratulations among the citizens. The President 
was for once conquered by public opinion. Looking at the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 223 

after events of the war, it may perhaps be regretted that he 
was so conqaered, and that he did not adhere to his first 
resolution to evacuate the city, and tlius disembarrass the 
main army of the Confederacy which was so long tied to the 
one object of the safety of Kichmond, True, it would have 
excited great popular complaint; it would' have risked a great 
alarm ; but the moral spirit of tlie Confederacy would at that 
time probably have sustained a misfortune which, resulting 
three years later, was then a fatal blow to its spirit. In 1862 
the Confederacy might have survived the foil of Richmond ; 
in 1865 it perished under it. Further, in military estimation, 
the defence of Richmond proved a constant fetter on the army 
of Virginia ; for years it embarrassed all the operations of 
General Lee on the border, and this commander once com- 
plained in his quaint way, that "he had got a creak in his neck 
from constantly looking over his shoulder after RichmondP But 
these calculations were remote, hid in the future ; and when 
Mr. Davis determined and announced that the city was to be 
defended, the resolution was taken as the wisest and most 
heroic thing that could be done in the circumstances. Hap 
pily there was time to effect the change thus determined upon , 
and the capital of the Confederacy, at the last, was more saved 
through the unreadiness of McClellan, than through the spirit 
and providence of its defenders. While this commander, for- 
merly the superintendent of a Northern railroad, had, as Mr. 
Aylett, one of the Richmond wits, expressed it, " accustomed 
in peace to the indecent haste of railroad travelling, adopted 
in war the sedate tactics of the mud-turtle," Richmond was 
being filled with soldiers ; and the city into which he might 
once have cut his way through the army he had driven from 
Williamsburg, now interposed the most numerous force the 
South ever put in a single field. 



224 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

But while these consultations and prepai'ations of Mr. 
Davis were taking place, and while popular confidence trem- 
bled on his decision, whether the Confederate capital should 
be evacuated or defended, there came a single incident which, 
of itself, nearly surrendered Richmond, and which claims here 
a curious notice. In fact, it created a public grief, so wild and 
bitter, that at one time it was feared the building, in which 
were collected the departments of the government, might be 
stormed b}- a mob. This event was the destruction of the 
iron-clad " Yirginia-Merrimac," in the tidewater of the James. 
It was the most important naval structure that defended the 
water approach to Richmond ; it had cost nearly a year to 
complete it ; it had won the only important naval victory 
which the Confederates ever gained ;" it had been fondly and 
gloriously named "the iron diadem of the South," and it was 
accounted the equivalent of an army of fifty thousand men in 
the defence of the Confederate capital. It was fired by its 
own crew, and blown to the four winds of heaven at a time 
when its destruction left the water avenue to Richmond so 
nearly open, that only four guns defended it, in an unfinished 
work on the upper part of the river. It has been said that 

•^' We make no account of the deeds of the Alabama, as naval 
triumphs, for she went down in the first regular battle Avhich Caiitain 
Serames, Avhetted b}- the persuasions of his friends in England, fought 
for the especial purpose of getting a prestige on the sea for the Con- 
federac5^ The destruction of merchant vessels, however effective it 
may be in war, does not constitute exploits to boast of. When 
Captain Semmes was presented with a sword for them, by some of 
his English admirers, the London Punch had a witticism on the appro- 
priateness of the gift to the hero who "ck(s away.'''' In brief, the 
Confederate navy was an arm so vastly inferior in the war, tliat it 
will scarcely claim the attention of the just historian — except for re- 
cords of weakness and folly. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 225 

tliis vessel was destroyed witliout the orders of the Govern- 
ment, and through the alarm of the commander, Commodore 
Tatnall, who had never once fought it since its victory, under 
another commander, in Hampton Boads, and who now, instead 
of riding it into, at least, one grand final action, that it might 
perish gloriously, had carried it under the shelter of an island 
and blown it into the air of midnight. 

But what was most notable of this astounding shame is, 
that at the time there was thus cleanly destroyed an iron- 
clad, which had cost the government of Mr. Davis one 3^ear 
to build, and not a bolt saved from the wreck — at a time when 
a structure so immense and elaborate was given to the winds, 
the same Government was advertising through the length and 
breadth of the South for scrap-iron, old brass, saucepans, and 
even clock-weights, in its scarcity of metal for naval armor 
and ordnance. It was a ludicrous apposition of expedients, 
but one, characteristic of the administration of Mr. Davis. 
The puerility of these metal contributions was ridiculous 
enough. ~Here was an Ordnance Bureau advertising for 
church bells, out of which to make light artillery; here were 
ladies sending preserving kettles to assist in the defence of 
their beloved Confederacy. One woman in Mobile wrote tliat 
she sent her " mite of old brass ; " another patriotic lady wrote 
from Charleston, " I send you, as a contribution to the Con- 
federacy, the lead weight which was attached to the striking- 
part of my clock." These tilings are not mentioned for 
amusement; they were solemnly published in the country 
newspapers, from which we copy them. They are, indeed, 
profoundly significant of that littleness of expedients in the 
South, that paltriness of device in great necessities, which 
runs as a singular and curious characteristic through the 
whole of Mr. Davis's administration in the war. When the 
15 



226 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

most elaborate iron-clad the world had yet seen was wantonly 
blown to useless atoms; when blockade-runnerS; from Europe, 
instead of importing ordnance, were laying in cargoes of 
champagne, and special consignments of cigars for Mr. Davis 
and Mr. Benjamin; and when the armories and wort-shops 
Avere suffering for material, the Government of Mr. Davis was 
])erforming the silly romance of collecting scrap-iron, and 
publishing lists of lady-contributors of kettles and pans. 
Some of these lists, printed for emulative excitement, are yet 
to be found in Southern newspapers of that time. They were 
quite on a par with a later advice of Secretary Memminger, 
to relieve the needs of the Confederate Treasury, by patriotic 
contributions of sugar-pots and finger rings — a device, by the 
way, which provoked Senator Wigfall to tell the anecdote of 
Mr. Davis's wise financier, that he had at first proposed that 
the expenses of the war should be paid by collection bags in 
the churches. Seriously, the public necessities of a govern- 
ment require large measures, acts of provident statesmanship, 
and Mr. Davis's idea of patching them up with such contri- 
butions as we have mentioned, was one of those silly, juvenile 
thoughts, worthy perhaps of the minds of women, but absurdi- 
ties to statesmen. 

And, indeed, this paltriness of "patriotic contributions" 
was a little romance for the female population of the South, 
in which Mr. Davis, of course, was the hero. It was so 
pleasant to think of building what should be called " The 
Ladies' Gunboat," to take the place of the Yirginia-Merrimac; 
and so, on the destruction of this vessel, the ladies of Rich- 
mond Avere called to meet in one of the churches, and Mrs. 
Judge Clopton — an estimable Virginia matron, who had given 
some noble sons to her country's service, " The Old Lady " 
who wrote in the newspapers diatribes against Governor 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 227 

Letclier— was solemnly authorized to send circulars through 
the country to collect old iron, even to the extremity of 
nails and broken horse-shoes. It was a cheerful assembly, 
under the circumstances ; letters were read from Mr. Davis ; 
speeches were made, and for once Eichmond had a dim per- 
ception of " woman's rights." A lady president delivered a 
long oration, but unfortunately she died a few days thereafter 
from the effects of a supper, which the warlike sisterhood had 
given in honor of their enterprise. It was one of those 
ludicrous and grotesque episodes which sometimes happen in 
great popular excitements— and yet it reflected, not a little, 
that juvenile mind of the South, its want of commensurate 
appreciation and just provision, so remarkable in the war, and 
so characteristic of a people who have been always deficient 
in the practical application of means to an end. 



228 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTER Xy. 

The City of Richmond Saved — General Lee Appointed to Command before it — Incidents and Anec- 
dotes of his previous Military Career — A Private Understanding between Generals Johnston 
and Lee — The Latter Promises to Resign — Changes of Military Policy of the Confederacy — 
Great Influence of Lee over President Davis — How the Latter was Managed — The " Seven 
Days' " Battles — Terrible scenes in Richmond — Refusal of tlie Southern People to Mourn their 
Dead — Some Reminiscences of Richmond Hospitals — Significant Address of President Davis — 
The First Experiment by the Confederacy of an Aggressive Campaign — Plans of the Campaign on 
both sides of the Alleghany — The period of Greatest Effulgence of the Confederate arms — Results 
of Bragg's Campaign in Kentucky — The Dramatic Battle of Sharpsburgh — A Secret Agent of the 
Confederacy Prepared to Yisit Washington — Mr. Foote's Confidences with President Davis — 
Romance of " The Lost Dispatch " — Review of the Autumnal Campaign of 1862 — A Brilliant 
Record on the Valor of the Confederate Troops — Why was this Valor so Unavailing — The 
Outcryof Wasted Blood against Jefferson Davis — Silly Transports of the Confederate President — 
His Fulsome Address to the Mississippi Legislature-pA Remarkable Private Letter from 
General Floyd — Two Notable Views of the War in Contrast. 

RiCHMOisiD was saved — saved for a lingering death, a post- 
poned catastrophe. It was saved bj a new spirit in the 
army that defended it, and by a change in the military policy 
of Mr. Davis. This change was fairly inaugurated on placing 
before Richmond a new commander, whose name was here- 
after to illustrate the brightest pages of Southern history, 
and to be borne through all the brilliant battles of Virginia, 
from those of the "Seven Days" to those which gilded the 
last efforts of the Southern Confederacy. 

General Lee had commenced his military career in the 
Confederate service, by a campaign in the mountains of 
Western Virginia, in a field narrow and difficult, where he 
obtained but scant laurels. He had returned to Richmond 
with a sadly diminished reputation, and for months he Ian 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 229 

guished in obscurity, in nominal command of the span of 
seacoast from Charleston to Savannah where there was yet no 
considerable enemy. Mr. Davis has since justly remarked, 
that under the Northern system of retiring unsuccessful com- 
manders, LeC' would have been sacrificed and tlie genius that 
was to illuminate so many fields in the South would have 
been lost to the Confederacy. But happily the disasters of 
the Confederacy had not yet become so alarming as to re- 
quire such sacrifices of officers to the passion and ignorance 
of an unwarlike people; there was as yet no demand for 
scape-goats, and when General Lee was appointed to take 
command of the forces around Richmond, beleaguered by 
McClellan, although some of the newspapers twitted him as 
"Letcher's pet," and the Richmond Examiner thought to 
discover in the appointment, a paltry game of politicians, and 
jeered the report that a spawn of West Point, was arrogant 
enough to aspire to be next Governor of Yirginia, there was 
no^more violent expression of dissatisfaction, and even if 
there had been a disposition to raise a popular clamor against 
the appointment, the condition of Confederate affairs was 
then too extreme to support criticism. 

General Lee accepted the appointment modestly enough, 
and, as is known to the author, with the private intention of 
relinquishing the command of the Army of Yirginia to 
Johnston, as soon as the latter should recover from the 
wound that prostrated him at Seven Pines. A message to 
this effect was conveyed by one of Lee's family to Johnston 
lying on his sick bed, and fretting under his wound; but, 
although he might have been consoled by it, he responded 
generously that he rejoiced that General Lee had command 
of the army, since he observed that he had obtained, the 
confidence and aid of Mr. Davis's owernment more than he 



230 LIFE OF JEFFERSO:^ DAVIS, WITH A 

(Johnston) had been able to do. " I thns regard my wound 
as a good providence," said the stricken and suffering com- 
mander; "the Government will now draw in troops to Lee 
that it refused me, and Eichmond will be saved." Eichmond 
was saved ; but if General Lee remembered his promise to 
resign, events moved too fast to enable him to gratify his 
inclinations to a less important command, and to disembarrass 
himself of public opinion that already hailed him as a hero. 
"When Johnston had recovered from his wound, Lee had 
mounted to the zenith of his fame at second Manassas ; had 
closed an important campaign, with lively satisfaction to the 
public, and had already so possessed the aflections and con- 
fidence of his army, that his separation from it could no 
longer be thought of, and indeed, if attempted, would have 
risked the mutiny of his soldiers, and aroused the resentment 
of the whole South. The man who a few months ago had 
been held in mediocre estimation at best — of whom an officer 
in the Army of Virginia had said at the time Lee had been 
banished to the " coast service " in 1861, "General Beaure- 
o-ard thinks well of him" — was already the first favorite of 
the South, and had far outridden in fame the heroes of an 
earlier period of the war who had assumed to patronize and 
praise faintly his struggling genius. 

The change of the military policy of the Confederacy from 
that of dispersion to that of concentration — a change which 
General Johnston had been the first to propose, but which 
General Lee, who had greater arts of persuasion, had alone 
been able to effect — saved its capital. The contraction of the 
line of defence produced, of course, a greater capacity of re- 
sistance, and made a successful defence of Eichmond almost 
in its last extremity. Whatever General Lee's reputation for 
independence and directness of conduct, it is remarkable of 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 231 

him that he had rure insight into character, and understood 
how to use men for his purposes, accommodating himself 
readily to the peculiarities of the persons with whom he had 
to deah lie must have, been sensible of the peculiar weak- 
ness of Mr. Davis, to judge from his adroit interpolation in 
his official report of the operations around Riclimond, of the 
remai-k that tlicy had been conducited under thu "approving 
presence " of the President, notwithstanding the fact that the 
latter had never done more than ride out curiously two or 
three miles to the battle-fields, and had had no more to do 
with the operations than those conducted hundi-cds of miles 
from the capital. But it was just such stuff as caught Mr. 
Davis, and he was as pliant as a child to those who chose to 
manage him with a few plums of compliment. In his whole 
military career General Lee made it a point always to recog- 
nize an advisory relation as subsisting between him and the 
President, and the consequence was, that he had more abso- 
lutely a carte blanche as to his operations and movements than 
any other Confederate commander in the Avai-. 

The "seven days" of battle around Richmond were days 
of welhremembered glory for the South. It is not our design 
here to enter into the military details of this, or of any other 
battle of the war ; these do not projoerly belong to our work. 
In a week the enemy was fought down to the James river, 
twenty miles below Eichmond, a circuit of victories was 
achieved, and although McClellan's army was not destroyed 
or captured, there was no disposition of the Southern people 
to carp at the extent of the results accomplished, but on the 
contrary, a general concurrence in the seiitiment of General 
Lee, who wrote with pious moderation in his official report : 
"Regret that more was not accomplished gives way to grati- 
tude to the Sovereign Ruler of the universe, for the results 



232 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

aohioved.*' The victory of Rielimoud was an oaeonrageinout 
bestowed ou the whole South ; it ilhiminated the entire Cou- 
federacY ; but it exhibited to the capital city itself that reverse 
side of the picture of the Avar, from which men lift the embroi- 
dery to stand face to foce with the stark horrors of Death. 

Richmond Avas tilled with wounded, dying men ; the death 
agony might be seen at any time by the passenger ou the 
street, who would pause to look, with horrifying curiosity, 
through the plates of glass o!l some large store on the 
thoroughfares, now converted into a temporary hospital, a 
hundred pallets arranged where once had been the counters 
of trade, and where Death was now busy in his ghastly traffic. 
Ambulances in long lines were being driven through the 
streets, every hour of the day. It was heart-rending to 
hear the screams, the groans, or the peculiar chants of pain 
from blood}' and disligured men. to whom every jolt on the 
rough stones was as a new wound. Nearly every building in 
Richmond was a house of mourning, or a private hospital. 
Death became ftimiliar. A half-dozen corpses were often put 
in a single cart, and hurried to the burial ground, where they 
had to await the turn of the grave-diii-^er. it not being unusual 
for the bodies to swell from exposure, and to burst the frail 
shell of boards, called a coffin, while exposed for nights in 
the cemetery, before the final resting-place was prepared for 
tliein. The air was poisoned with sickening odors. The 
hospitals were loathsome with bloated, disfigured, bodies, for 
gangrene and erysipelas attacked many of the wounded in 
the heat of the midsummer, and hurried them to irraves from 
which timely medical attention miglitliave saved tliom. And 
in these charnel-houses, where women attended and prayed — ■ 
where tender ladies supplied Avith their ministrations the 
neglect and improA'idence of the governmeoit — each beat of 



SKCKKT iriSTOUY OF Til 10 C'ONFEDKRACV. Zoo 

urtilloiy in the distance that cainc tln-ouL;'h tl\c wiiulows, smote 
tlio iuKigiiKition of the watchers with the tliought that at tluit 
inoineiit (lieir own loved ones might be stvetehed on the 
bloody and cheerless sod of the battle-lleld, and might ba 
giving u]') their lives in the unattended and unsoothed agonies 
of liugei'ing death. 

But private griefs are soon swallowed up in a great ]nil)He 
joy; and it is remarkable bow readily and cheeri'ully the 
people o[' the South accepted for tlieir dead the consolations 
of patriotism, indeed regrets should be slight I'or men fallen 
in any good cause; and, considering the pain and emptiness 
of all human Id'e, the thought has often occurred that scarcely 
mtu'c than the ileeent semblances of grief, or the tributes of a 
tender and submissive melancholy are due to tlu)se who die 
in the peace of God or on the path oi' duty. There were 
voices of mourning in ixiehmoud ; yet they were but slight, 
ciimpared with the acclamations of public triumph ovei- the 
great victory which, tlunigh it had lilled its houses with the 
dead, had saved it from a hated enemy, and girded its adjacent 
fields with an imperishable glory. But lew persons in the 
South wore, during the war, mourning foi- their dead. Nor 
was this omission of dress due only ti) pin-ertv ; for imme- 
diately after the battle of Manassas an appeal had been }uib- 
lished in the newspapers, and especially to the ladies of the 
South, that they 8lu)uld forbear from wearing moui'uing for 
relatives fallen in the wai-, as such a. spectacle would become 
jxiinful from the multitude of display, and was really an inap- 
]U'o}U"iate tribute to those who had freely given their lives to 
their country's cause of liberty and honor. Of 1-vichmond the 
general aspect was that of j'oy and animation, even while its 
hospitals groaned with the wounded and the dying ; and 
although there might have been uo impropriety in raising to 



234 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

some extent the voice of a great public congratulation above 
that of private and domestic griefe, yet it was sometimes pain- 
ful to tind in this vile citj, peculiarly accursed by the war, so 
man}' festive and dissolute entertainments so close to scenes of 
suffering and death. The hotels were filled with gay companies ; 
the crash of festive music might be heard a few doors from hos- 
pitals; and there is even a notorious scandal to this day in 
Eichmond, that one of these abodes of suffering was actually 
turned into a shop of the worst female characters, and allorded 
its social dinners as regularly and as sumptuously as the finest 
"hells" in the city. 

The popular elation on the delivery of Richmond from an 
enemy who had come so near to possessing it, was naturally 
great. In the shallow mind of the populace, the tumult of 
alarm and the extravagance of hope are perhaps in the same 
proportion easily excited; and thus Richmond passed suddenly 
from the most depressing anxiety to the most exalted expecta- 
tions. Mr. Davis did more than share the general elation ; he 
gave it increased volume in a fulsome address to the soldiers 
This address is copied below for the literary interest of its 
stvle, as well as lor the significance of the appeal with which 
it concludes : — 

EiClliiOND, July 5, 18G2. 

'■^To the Armii in Eastern Virginia: 

SoLDiEKS : I congratulate you on the series of brilliant victories 
which, under the favor of Divine Providence, you have lately 
won, and as the President of the Confederate States, do hereby tender 
to you the thanks of the country, whose just cause you have so skill- 
fully and heroically served. Ten days ago, an invading army, vastly 
superior to you in numbers and the material of war, closely beleagured 
your capital aifd vauntingly proclaimed its speedy conquest ; you 
marched to attack the eneni}' in his inti'onchniouts ; with well-directed 
movements and death-defying valor you charged upon him in his 



SECKKT HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 235 

strong positions, drove him from field to Held over a distance of more 
than thirty-five miles, and despite his reinforcements, compelled him 
to seek safety under tlie cover of his gun-boats, where he now lies 
cowering before the army so lately derided and threatened with 
entire subjugation. The fortitude with which you have; borne toil 
and privation, the gallantry with which you have euterud into each 
successive battle, nuist have been witnessed to be fully appreciated ; 
but a grateful people will not fail to recognize you and to bear you in 
loved remembrance. Well may it be said of you that you have " done 
enough for glory ;" but duty to a suffering country and to the cause 
of constitutional liberty claims from you yet further effort. Let it be 
your pride to i-elax in nothing which can promote your future effi- 
ciency ; your one great object being to drive the invader from your 
soil, and, carrying your standards beyond the outer boundaries of 
the Confederacy, to wring from an unscrupulous foe the recognition 
of your birthright, community, and independence." 

This address of Mr. Davis indicated clearly cnouy,li a eliangc 
of military policy, and announced (even with imprudent free- 
dom to the enemy) that the Confederacy was resolved and 
prepared to essay for the first time an aggressive campaign. 
Tlie ])olicy of concentration, Avhich had at last been under- 
taken, furnished Mr. Davis with two compact powerful armies 
on each side of the Alleghanics — the Army of Tennessee, now 
commanded by Bragg, and that called the Army of Northern 
Virginia, from the day it marched away from Richmond 
under the command of Lee. With these two armies there 
was now undertaken the grandest and widest campaign of the 
war, stretching from the Mississippi to the Atlantic ; Lee to 
carry the war to the foreground of Washington, and Bragg to 
penetrate the heart of Kentucky, sweeping a tract of country 
bounded by the enemy's posts in Alabama and Tennessee and 
the cities ol' Louisville and Cincinnati. It was an instance of 
strategy remarkable for its comprehension and unity; the object 
being to cany the war to the enemy's frontier by combined 



236 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

movements, to relieve for purposes of subsistence large sections 
of country which had been overrun, and possibly to wreak upon 
the enemy some punishment for his own crimes of invasion, 
and make the people of the North taste some of the bitter- 
ness of the war which had so far been to them a military 
entertainment and a distant show. It was undoubtedly the 
period of the greatest effulgence of the Confederate arms; and 
the latter half of the year 1862 must take its place in the 
history of the war as the span of greatest gloiy for the South. 
The results of this most magnificent enterprise of the war 
fell below public expectation in the South; and yet a great 
glory was achieved, vast acquisitions of subsistence were made, 
and the sum of the campaign is, that it showed to the world 
that a Confederacy which a few months before had had its 
capital beleaguered, had been able to take its great and 
powerful adversary at a disadvantage, and that it had nearly 
demonstrated to civilized nations its own military strength 
and ability to win the independence it had proclaimed. Gen- 
eral Bragg Avas at last forced to retire from Kentucky ; and 
General Lee decided not to deliver a second battle in Mary- 
land, even after the victory which he has ever claimed to 
have borne from the banks of the Antietam. The results of 
Bragg's campaign, although it abandoned Kentucky, were 
3^et large and visible. He relieved considerable sections of 
Tennessee and Alabama from the presence of the enemy ; he 
recovered Cumberland Gap, the main avenue from Eichmond 
to the heart of the Confederacy ; and although he had not ful- 
filled the hopes that he might permanently occupy Kentucky, 
he brought from it subsistence that supported his army during 
the whole ensuing winter; he gained the brilliant victory of 
Perry ville ; he came back with the record of having killed, 
wounded and captured of the enemy a number equal to half 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 237 

the force of his army, and he exhibited as consequences of his 
campaign, the recovery of the country between Nashville and 
Chattanooga and a securer hold on a section of two hundred 
miles of the Mississippi Eiver, extending from Vicksburg to 
Port Hudson. The Virginia correspondent of this campaign 
was even more successful. But Sharpsburg was a more 
dramatic termination than Perry ville ; the avenue of conflict 
to it more brilliant and interesting, and the final disappoint- 
ment there as keen in proportion as the expectations had been 
high, that mounted to this the most important field in the 
second year of the war. The victory of the Second Manassas 
had raised the hopes of the South to the highest pitch ; and 
there were men in Richmond wlio had expected that General 
Lee would be dictating peace from Washington the day the 
news came that he was struggling back across the fords of 
the Potomac. 

It was not generally known to the Southern public at the 
time of which we write — and indeed a question is yet miide 
of the incident by those who believe that Mr. Davis was 
always calm, well-advised and prescient, a perfection and a 
sciolist — that such was the exaltation of the President at the 
prospect of Lee's advance into Maryland, that even before the 
battle of Sharpsburg he had prepared a mission to propose 
terras of peace at Washington. Hereafter we shall find the 
same experiment repeated on the disposition and temper of 
the enemy, in circumstances somewhat similar ; but what is 
remarkable of each occasion is, that the mission was disguised 
as the mere negotiation of a question as to the humanities of 
the war. The design of these missions was really for a certain 
moral effect. Mr. Davis had been persuaded that at the moment 
the Confederate armies were so visibly superior as to carry the 
war into the enemy's countr}^, if he would then make any 



238 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

propositions showing the moderation of tlie designs of the 
South, it would furnish capital to the Democratic party in the 
North, widen the divisions of party there, and excite a politi- 
cal diversion in favor of the South, besides making a moral 
exhibition to the world of great advantage to its cause. 
He was thus always hasty to send peace messengers to "Wash- 
ington on every possible occasion ; but in convenient disguise, 
so that they might not convey any confession of weakness or 
of over-anxiety for the termination of hostilities. It was no 
sooner known that Lee's army was across the Potomac, than 
Mr. Foote of Tennessee — a person who was always prompt to 
catch at any sensation, and ready to ride whatever hobby was 
in career, offered a resolution in Congress for the " terms of a 
just and honorable peace," considering how Providence had 
" continually blessed " the arms of the Confederacy. But Mr. 
Foote, then in relations of intimate friendship with Mr. Davis, 
overdid the desii'es of the latter, and another friend of the 
President (Mr. Holt, of Georgia,) immediately rose to his feet 
in the House of Representatives, and moved to modify the 
resolution to the effect that a commissioner should be sent to 
Washington to protest that " the war should be conducted in 
the sense established by the rules of Christian and civilized 
nations." It was privately explained that the design was 
only to lay a foundation for negotiations to the extent of ex- 
perimenting on the Democratic party of the North ; and that 
while the South had already sufficiently offered terms of peace 
in Mr. Davis's first manifesto at Montgomery, to the effect that 
eight millions of people, in the i^ight to pursue their own hap- 
piness, should be " let alone," it would be an ingenious thing, 
and have the appearance of great magnanimity, to offer to 
ameliorate the war at the time that the South was manifestly 
superior in the contest and her armies actually on the enemy's 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 239 

soil. It was for these reasons that JNFr. Davis proposed a mis- 
sion to AVashington, and gave, besides, the most positive and 
stringent orders that Lee's army was to protect every right 
of private property in the North, to abstain from retaliation, 
and to show the utmost regard for the humanities of war. It 
was not so mucli to sentimentalism of " Christian warfare" 
as the calculation of political effect — the demonstration of that 
idea which Mr. Davis cherished throughout the war, and yet 
feebly executed, of operating on the division of parties in the 
North, and thus Aveakening its resolution and temper in the 
contest. 

But the design in this instance fell inrough almost at the 
time it was meditated. While the Commissioner for Wash- 
ington was being prepared and clothed at Eichmond, news 
came that Lee's army had fallen back across the Potomac, 
after having fought the unhappy battle of Sharpsburg. This 
battle General Lee has always claimed as a victory for his 
army. But its true story is a peculiar one: that of a jaded 
army ; outnumbered, 33,000 against 90,000 (taking the figures 
fi'om the official reports of each commander, respectively); its 
plan of campaign- betrayed ; suffering no defeat ; offering 
battle the day after the main conflict ; compelled at last to 
retire since there was no prospect of reinforcements to 
balance against the quick reorganization of the enemy ; and 
conducting its retreat so skilfully that not a gun or a single 
material of war was left behind, and so bravely that (as 
General A. P. Ilill wrote in his official report) " the broad 
surface of the Potomac was blue with the floating bodies of 
our foe 1" General Lee had designed to hold not only what 
Mr. Davis called " heroic Maryland," but to plant the war — 
where Mr, Davis, when speaking in the Senate of the United 
States, had declared it would be found — in the wheat-fields 



2-iO LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVI^^, WITH A 

of Pennsylvania. The steps of tlie campaign were distinctly 
marked out : — to capture Harper's Ferry, and then to enter 
Pennsylvania b}' the Cumberland Valley. 

A single incident was perhaps more fatal to Lee's cam- 
paign than the circumstance that he had been compelled to 
leave ten thousand bare-foot or ill-shod stragglers on the 
other side of the Potomac. The entire pilan of his movement 
drawn out to detail had been prepared by him at Frederick 
(Marvland) and been communicated to the different cori:is -. 
commanders. One of the latter — D. II. Hill, a man of coarse ^ "^ 
and brutal eccentricities — had in a fit of displeasure at the 
place assigned him, thrown the paper to the ground ; it was 
found bv a private in ]\IcClellan's army, when it occupied 
the town and it at once made that commander master of the 
situation. 

The romance of " The Lost Dispatch " was long a subject 
of painful gossip in the South, and it appears to have 
founded some strong personal recriminations. It is, indeed, 
one of these melancholy, familiar romances, where, an appa- 
rent trifle has decidtd the most momentous fate, defeated the 
most elaborate hopes, and turned tlie balance of history. A 
little piece of paper, neglected, given to the winds, becomes 
the most sorrowful accident of the late wai", reveals to a 
Federal General the entire ]^]an of a campaign, just at 
the crisis of execution, and j'jlucks froni the commander of 
the Confederates a victory that might have ultimately de- 
cided the immense issue of Southern independence. This is 
not a strained imagination. It is reasonable that if J). II. 
Hill had not been the instrument of a revelation to ^IcClellan 
of General Lee's designs in Maryland, the latter succeeding 
at Harper's Ferry, might have fully collected his forces from 
*-hat dash, and p^recipitating them upon the enemy, might 



SECRET HISTOIIY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 241 

have won a complete success, instead of being forced through 
Hill's disclosures to deliver a battle, with his forces not up. 
and to cover a retreat where he had lioped to gain a victory. 
Since the war Mr. Davis is reported to have referred to 
this strange incident as an explanation of Lee's defeat in 
Maryland ; but to have added : " I hear that General Hill 
protests that he never lost or misplaced the order, and that 
in proof of this he has it yet in his possession among his 
papers at home. If this is so, that is the end of the matter, 
and I have no more to say of it." But it is proper to say 
that in the explanation to which Mr. Davis refers, recently 
developed in a controversy in the newspapers. General Hill 
has only been able to assert that he retains a copy of the 
the order referred to — and thus " The Lost Dispatch " yet 
remains among the myteries of the war.* 

* In the controversy referred to, as of a historical question, the 
author may place here for the interest and curiosity of tlie reader 
some parts of a printed reply which he was recently constrained to 
make to a criticism of D. II. Hill on the now notorious statement of 
"The Lost Dispatch :"— 

* * * * The whole issue is as to the loss of a certain diapatch, hy 
which D. II. Hill became the instrument of a revelation to the 
enemy, that defeated General Lee's first campaign in Maryland in 
1862. Here is the statement which the author made of the extraor- 
dinary accident, and here hinj^e the twenty pages of D. IL Hill's 
criticism : 

" A copy of the order directing the movement of the army from 
Frederick had been sent to D. H. Hill ; and this vain and petulant 
officer, in a moment of passion, had thrown the paper on the ground. 
It was picked up by a Federal soldier, and McClellan thus strangely 
became possessed of the exact detail of his adversary's plan of opera- 
tions." — Lost Cause, p. 314. 

* * * * We have the evidence in our hands that, before the light 
obtained from the "The Lost Dispatch," McClellan was completely 

16 



2-12 LIFE OF JEFFKRSOX DAVIS. Willi A 

The last winter mouths of 1SG2 louud Lee reoi"gaui;-:ing his 
arniv in the neiiihborhood of Winchester, Yir^inia, and 
Brao-o- iVontino- Roseerans on the lines of Nashville, Tennes- 

bcwiUlorod as to General Lee's designs ; that ho was in doubt 
whether he was progresshig to Pennsylvania or ainiing at lialthuore ; 
that he knew nothing of the disposition of the Confederate ixirees 
beyond a vague idea that they Avere in the vieinity of Fredeviek. and 
that "the unready Athelstane "' was never less prepared to do Invttle 
than he was until Hill's diselosure eaine to his infomnation and re- 
lief. Here is ^leCIellan's own aceouut of the event, and his implied 
estimation of its importance : 

'•On the loth of September an order fell into my hands, issued by 
General Lee. which fidh/ ditfchscd his phtns, and I immaUatcJy gave 
orders for a rapid and vigorous forward movement." — licport of 
the Ortjanization and Camjmiciyis of the Armi/ of the Potomac. 
McGMUw, p. o52. 

The author prepared liis account of ''Tlie liOst Dispatch,'' and of 
D. H. Hill's carelessness, productive, as it Avas, of the defeat of tlie 
Maryland campaign, from persons singularly intelligent and disinur- 
ested, and Avhose connnentaries were far severer than that to which 
the irate General has chosen to respond. He should turn his pen to 
these commentalitrs who have spread the ilisgracefnl story over half 
the globe, instead of making a partial recourse, or an ingenious 
diversion to this writer. 

First Ave haA'c the account of an English Avriter, Lieutonant-Oolouel 
Fletcher, of Scots Fusileer Guards, who has recently Avritten a n\ost 
just and admirable histor}- of the Confederate Avar, published by 
lientley, London. This intelligent ollicer Avill be ren\ombered as 
having traA'cUcd both iS^orth and South during the Avar ; as having 
had excellent opportunities of observation; as having resideil for 
some lime in the Confederate camps, and as, therefore, possessing 
unusual claims to credit, on the score both of correct information 
and o[' iniparlial Justice. Here is his account of "The Lost Dis- 
patch :" 

''General Lee directed D. Hill, with his division, to guard the 
passes through South Mountain, and to cover the siege of Harper's 



SECRET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDEUAOV. 243 

sec. It was not the situation tliat the South had hoped for 
wlien the eonimand "forward" had runt^- from Richmond to 
the hxg\)ous of Mississippi; and yet we rc[)cat there were 

Ferry. To insure a distuict uiidorstanduig of tlio. plan of operations, 
hv sent written orders, to 1). Hill ; and this docuniont, delailint;- Avith 
exactitude the proposed luoveiuents of the several porlions ol' llie 
army, fell into the hands of (Jeueral McOlellau. It had been con- 
veyed to I). Hill, who, after readinir it, either throuij,h a feeliiiL;- i>f 
impatience at its contents, or lln'ough carelessness, thi'cw or let il, 
fall on the ground, and, lying there ibrgotten, it was picked up by a. 
soldier of the Federal army, and forwarded at once to McClellan, 
who thus became possessed of his adversary's plan of operations. 
This knowledge enabled General A[cClellan to direct tln^ movennails 
of his army with certainty." — Flctcher'>s Ilidory. ]Jentley, London. 
Vol. 2, p. 157. 

We have a yet more detailed account of this unhappy disclosnre to 
the enemy, again from a foreigner, su[)[)osed to write wltl\ no parti- 
ality for the North, and certainly with no personal aninu>sily toward 
D. II. Hill. We quote from an article in the QdarUrhi Itcvicin^ com- 
posed from various testimonies concerning the wai- : 

" Ihit before D. IT. llill fell back upon South Mountain, it is now 
notorious that a momentous incident had happened. It will \h\ 
necessary to give a few words of the character of this Cleneral. It 
should be premised that Lhe wives of 1). II. Hill and Stomnvall .Tack- 
sou are sisters, and it is generally believed (we know not with what 
truth) that Mrs. Hill had long urged her husband to do something 
whereby some portion of Jackson's lustrous fauK^ might be ai'(]uired 
by, and accrue to D. ll. THU. * ''" The orders of (Jeueral Lee respect- 
ing the battle, which was now inuuinent, Avere ])laced in (leneral 
Hill's hands. These orders, according to General Jice's invaria1)le 
practice, were full, precise and luu-eserved. It was, according to 
General Lee's views, very desirable to gain a few days, in order to 
permit General Jackson to fnush his task at Harper's Kerry, and to 
allow some of the many stragglers to get to the front. General Hill 
was, therefore, instructed to take up a strong ]iosilion at South 
Mountain. These orders, as it happened, Averc displeasing to CJeue- 



24-4 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

lively and visible causes of congratulation, and that the Con- 
federacy had won the highest honors for its arms in this 
most niemoniblc period of the war. 

ral Hill. He Hung them after rcacUug them, indignantly froni him, 
in the belief (as has been urged in his defence) that they would be 
picked up by one of his stall", and carried safely to his quartei-s. Be 
this as it may, they were left lying where they fell ; the ground Avas 
shortly afterward evacuated by the Confederates, and occupied by 
the Federals; General Lee's orders were picked up by a Pederal 
soldier, and their value being recognized, quickly carried to ^McClel- 
lan. Xo wonder that McClellan, commanding, according to his own 
statement, 87,104, aiid according to the other Federal statements, 
110,000 men, promised himself an assured and easy victory over the 
worn and weary troops which he kncAV to be before him. and as to 
whose movements and intentions he now had full information." 
— Quarterly Beview, April Number, 1864, pp. 303, 304. 

It Avill doubtless surprise the reader that in face of these multiplied, 
vivid and detailed evidences, D. II. Hill should deny that he lost 
the dispatch referred to, and that it ever passed through his hands ! 
The denial is unfortunately argumentative. He admits: "There 
can be no doubt that such a dispatch was lost ; but it is obviously 
unfair to assume that a paper Avith my name on the envelope Avas 
necessarily lost by me in person." He argues that he carefully pre- 
served a copy of said dispatch, and now has it in red tape among his 
military remains. This is not evidence, it is trash. But the worst 
part of D. II. Hill's explanation is that he argues Avith suspicious 
industry tliat, (/' such dispatch Avas lost by him, it Avas really of no 
value to McClellan ; that "the loss of the order was a beneiit, and 
not an injury to the Confederate arms !" 

It is a most suspicious {t\ and an absurdity so bald and insolent 
that Ave scarcely know liow to comment on it. Certainly, it Avill 
occur to the reader that McClellan himself Avas the best judge of the 
value of such a paper as a revelation ; and we have seen him in the 
quotation from his othcial report made above, admitting, nuAvillingly, 
and at the expense of his OAvn penetration and genius, that the dis- 
covery of the dispatch Avas decisiAa^, that it '-fully disclosed" Lee's 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDKRACY. 245 

Thus although the.carni)aigns directed against the Potomac 
and the Ohio fell short of their prizes, tlicy secured a military- 
prestige for the South, almost unequalled in modern times. 

plans, and enabled himself to make the movement that dceided the 
battle of Antietam, or Sharpsburg. 

As if in i)rofound ignorance of all historical record of this matter, 
and Avithout the least reference of McClellan's own report, D. 11. 
Hill goes on complacently to argue that the Federal commander 
might have obtained from his scouts, etc., all the iiitoi-inaliDn that 
the dispatch furnished, and that, therefore, the discovery of it was 
harndess. He says: "McClellan would have been the most ineffi- 
cient of Generals, could he not have gained that information in a 
friendly country from his own scouts and spies." 

Is it possible that this innocence of D. H. Hill is unfeigned, that 
he never read a document so important to this whole question as 
McClellan's official report ! The di.si)atch, as we have seen, came 
into the hands of the Federal comniandcu- on the l;jth of September. 
Now, let us see what he says of the state of his information previous 
to this : 

" On the 10th of September I received from my scouts information 
which rendered it quite probable that CTcneral Lee's army was in the 
vicinity of Frederick, but whether Ids intention was to move forward 
toward Baltimore or Pennsylvania was not then known.'''' — Heport of 
the Organization and Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac. 
McClellan^ p. 352. 

He does not refer to any other source of information of General 
Lee's movements, until he records, with sudden vivacit}', the dis- 
covery of the all-imjiortant dispatch, and his " immediate " move- 
ment thereupon. ]Jc^fbre this he was almost completely in the dark ; 
he had not the smallest suspicion of the leaguer of Harper's Ferry ; 
he had no plan of campaign imtil that dispatch, betraying not only 
Stonewall Jackson's diversion, but the movements of every corps of 
Lee's army, illuminated tlie whole field and put in his hands the 
means of victory ! 

This is the whole sorrowful stor}', and argument ends with INIcClel- 
lan's own admissions. 



246 LIFE OF .TEFFERSOX DAVIS. AVITH A 

Thev were hiiuiuous tracks of glory ; it was llio period of the 
world's greatest admiration of the arms ot' the South ; thev had 
already secured a reputation, which without the recognition ot' 
the Oontedoracy at the councild>oard of nations, yet }ilaccd it 
ill the Ixont rank of heroic peoples. And here we may pause 
to consider that one thing so remarkable in the war which the 
enemies of the South in all their busy and daring misrepre- 
sentations have never been able to deny — the one thread of 
cold which no web of invention ventures to omit — the exceed- 
ing valor of those devoted men who carried on their 
bayonets the hopes of the South and the fortunes of JelVersou 
Davis. 

No matter how defective was the government oi' the South- 
ern Confederacy, no matter what of weakness or dishonor there 
Avas at Richmond, the armies of that Confederacy avou a re- 
nown as imperishable as histor}'' ; and no rellections on any 
political questions can diminisli or disturb the tribute to the 
Southern soldier. Indeed that tribute is best defended on the 
hypothesis of the nnwortliinessof the Confederate Government; 
for how can we explain that a people so brave, occupying such 
breadth of territory, in fact superior to the North in the ad- 
vantages of the contest when we come to balance against the 
larger numbers and resources of the latter the aggregate of 
circumstances, that the South was on the defensive, that she 
had a superior cause and better inspirati^m. that slie did nt)t 
suffer as the 'North did IVoni political divisions, and that she 
occupied an extent of territory such as the world has never 
seen conquered, except through some decay of the spirit of its 
defenders — should have been subjugated, and subjugated so 
thoroughly, unless W'C take the suppositioji that the merits of 
the Southern army and all the advantages nature had given it 
were outweighed by the faults of its government. It is the 



SKORET HISTOKY OF TJfE CONFEDERACY. 2i7 

tlioory rno.st honorable to the Southern soldier, although the 
one rno.st unpleasant to JefFerHon iJavis,'** 

* There has been a very Bupcrficial, and to 8ome people a very 
pleasant way of accounting for the downfall of the Southern Con- 
federacy, by simply ascribing it to the great superiority of the North 
in numbers and resources. This argum(;nt ])as had a great career in 
the newspapers and in small publications ; and the vulgar mind i8 
easily imposed uj)on by the statistical parallel and the ariLhnuftical 
statement, inclin(;d as it is to limit its comprehension of great his- 
torical problems to mere material views of the question. There is 
no doubt that this superiority of the North in numbers had great 
weight ; that it contributed much to the discomfiture of the Con- 
federacy ; that it must be taken largely into any explanation of the 
results of the war— but the great question, at last, remains— "Was this 
numerical inequality, of itself, sufficient to determine the war in favor 
of the North, considering the great compensation whicli the South 
had in superior animation, in the circumstance of fighting on the 
defensive, and, above all, in the great extent of her territory '( We 
fear that the lessons and examples of history are to the contrary, and 
we search in vain for one instance where a country of such extent as 
the Confederacy has been so thoroughly subdued by any amount of 
military force, unless v:here popvXar (lemf/roMzation has ffupervened. If 
war was a contest on an open j>lain, where military forces fight a duel, 
of course that inferior in numbers must go under. But war is an 
intricate game, and there are elements in it far more decisive than 
that of numbers. At the beginning of the war in America all in- 
telligent men in the world and the Southf;rn leaders themselves knew 
the disparity of population and consequently of military force as be- 
tween the North and South ; but they did not on that account de- 
termine that the defeat of the Soutb was a foregone conclusion, and 
the argument comes with a bad grace from leaders of the Confederacy 
to ascribe now its failure to what stared them in the face at the com- 
mencement of the contest, and was then so lightly and even insolently 
dismissed from their calculation. The judgment of men who reflected, 
was that the South would be ultimately the victor, mainly because it 
was impossible to conquer space; that her subjection was a "geo- 



24S LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

It is in contemplating tlio splendid martial valor of the 
Sontli the bitterest thonglit of the war seizes us : — that it 
should after the campaign we have described have been so 
misdirected mainly through the errors and conceits of one 
man, and that it should have shed its blood so utterly in vain. 
It was, indeed, this extraordinary virtue of Southern soldiers 
that, alone, sustained for four years the unwise, capricious, and 
incoherent government of Mr. Davis, which, without this sup- 
port, without this ornament, would have nuich sooner sunk 
into contemjit and ruin. In view of the volume of lost blood 
and in view of the tens of thousands of human lives, many of 
which must have been sacrificed to tlie mahubuinistration of 
Jefferson Davis, it is wonderful what self-complacency this 
person is reported to display in looking back \ipon the war, 
when it might be supposed that the retrospection would be 
enough to plunge him into melancholy, if not to torture him 
with self-reproaches for the remnant of his days. The cheer- 
fulness which ]\Ir. Davis has shown since the w;ir, his habits 
of light conversation on it, and his lively assertions of satisfac- 
tion at his own part in it are not pleasant to those who look 
back upon one of the greatest stories of human sacrilice that 
has taken place in this age. If the thought oi' wasted blood 

graphical impossibility "; that three millions of men could not garrison 
her territory ; that a country so vast and of such peculiar features — 
not open as the European countries, and traversed everywhere by 
practicable roads, but wild and dillicult with river, uiouuiain, aud 
swamp, equivalent to succe^'.sive lines of military fortilicatious, welted, 
as it were, witli natiiral mounds and barriers — could never be brouglit 
under subjection to the military power of the J^orth. And these 
views were severely just ; they are true forever, now as formerly ; 
l>ul they proceeded on the supposition that the morale of the Con- 
iedenvcy would be preserved, and when the hypothesis fell (mainly 
through maladministration in Itiehmond) the argument fell with it.'" — 
The Lost Causc^ pp. 1:11, 1'2S. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 249 

(lid not ride his dreams like a demon, it might at least have 
given a shadow to his countenance, or engraved there sonic 
lines of regret. It has done neither. I'lie valor of the South 
is its immortal ornament in the war ; but it is Cull of reproaches 
and of sad reflections for those who abused it by useless sacri- 
lices, and at last betra3^ed it through an incompetent and 
wanton rule. 

In some periods of the history of the war — and never more 
so than at the close of the campaign of 1862 — it appeared as 
if the bravery of the soldiers of the South would accomplish 
its independence, despite the imperfect and slattern support it 
got from the government at Richmond, despite the shortcomings 
and misdeeds of Mr. Davis. This, indeed, was the only hope of 
thoughtful persons in the South. The spirit and efliciency of 
the soldiers, they considered, would be superior to the errors 
of the government. But these errors — as we shall hereafter 
see — were to become so large, so critical, that the bravest army 
in the world could no longer struggle against them with 
success. The blood it lost, wherever or in whatever propor- 
tion it can be traced to an unwise and dishonest administra- 
tion, will forever cry from the ground ; and it is one of the 
bitterest wails that has ever ascended the skies, accusing the 
folly and inhumanity of rulers. 

But in the season of success there is unhappily but little 
place in the vulgar mind either for reflection or for criticism 
on what has happened. The popular elation in the South 
which ensued on the campaign of 1862, was impatient of the 
doubts and speculations of those who suggested that the war 
was to be considerably prolonged, and that its issue in the 
inde})endence of the Confederacy was by no means yet secure. 
The criticism of the newspapers on Mr. Davis's administration 
was for once disarmed. The President was inflated with 



250 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

illimitable and unimaginable confidence. In bis gale of spirits 
at what Lee and Bragg bad accomplisbed, be proposed a 
pleasant visit to bis native State, Mississippi, to indulge there 
bis congratulations on tbe success of tbe war. He visited tbe 
Legislature of tbat State; be was received witb unbounded 
acclamations ; it was tbe occasion of rbetorical compliments ; 
and tbe President, witb eyes suffused, and placing bis band 
on bis beart, declared tbat in all tbe brilliant array around bis 
capital, be bad looked upon Mississippi soldiers witb a pride 
and emotion tbat no otbcr bad inspired. He ventured a 
memorable propbecy of tbe war. He bad reason to believe 
tbat it would soon be closed ; " in all respects, moral as well 
as pbysical, tbe Confederacy was better prepared tban it was 
a year previous;" and, extending bis arm in a tbeatrical 
manner, be declared tbat tbe' star of peace would soon 
appear on tbe borizon of tbe West. 

About tbe time tbe President was tbus vividly propbesying 
tbe approacbing termination of tbe war, a statesman of 
Virginia — Jobn B. Floyd, tben in obscurity, to wbicb be bad 
been consigned by Mr. Davis for tbe affair at Fort Donelson — 
Avrote a private letter to Mr. Carry of Alabama. In that 
letter tbe retired statesman exborted one of tbe most tbougbtful 
and cultivated members of Congress to impress tbat body 
witb tbe view tbat tbe war was to be continued for a long- 
time yet, tbat it would demand enlarged sacrilices, and 
besought bim, with an earnest solicitude not intended for the 
public eye, tbat be should urge increased means to meet tbe 
recovered spirit of tbe Nortb, tben re-organizing its armies, and 
accumulating its resources. The two views were in singular 
contrast. The Eicbmond ExaTiiinei publisbed tbem in jux- 
taposition in its columns — and awaited tbe commentary of 
time on tbeir relative trutb and value. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 251 



CHAPTER XVL 

Some Account of the Secret Misgivings or Private Calculations of Mr. Davis concsrning the War — 
His Delinquency on the Subject of Retaliation — A Record of Weak Threats — The Emancipation 
Proclamation of President Lincoln the Supreme Act of Outrage in the War — Excited Propositions 
in the Confederate Congress — Various Resolutions for Retaliation — The Response of Mr. Davis 
practically Nothing— Ilis Infamous Subterfuge, Suggesting Retaliation by tlie States— How Mr. 
Yancey Ridiculed it — A Distinct Law of Retaliation Passed by the Confederate Congress— Mr. 
Davis Refuses to Execute it — Curious Explanation of Mr. Divvis's Unwillingness to Retaliate on 
tho Enemy — A Detestable Calculation for his Personal Safety — Singular Apology for Mr. Davis 
by South Carolina Ladies — Moral Cowardice of Mr. Davis — Some Reflections on the True Nature 
of Courage — Excessive Admiration in the South of Mere Physical Manhood — Bravado of Mr. 
Davis — Tlio Emancipation Proclamation an Encouragement to the North — Review of the Mili- 
tary Situation at the Close of 1S62— The South Retires to a Defensive Policy — Summary of its 
Military Plans. 

If President Davis was so well assured as lie professed to be 
ill his speech in Mississippi, of the success of the Confederate 
cause, he had but a poor way of showing it in one remark- 
able line of conduct in his administration. With a feith so 
firm, it might have been supposed that the tone of his ad- 
ministration would have been high and unyielding, if not 
positively defiant. It was, indeed, excessively so in words ; 
but when it came to acts, and especially to retaliatory 
measures for the outrages and atrocities of tlie enemy — a 
class of measures which might have given the best evidence 
of the true resolution and spirit of his government, the best 
test of the firm and sperate mind which he displayed in rhe- 
torical declamations — he invariably blanched, broke down 
and fell into the weakest and most contemptible negative- 
ness. It was this delinquency on a point where the sensitive- 
ness of the Southern people was especially keen and exaspe- 



252 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

rated, that showed on Mr. Davis's part an extreme moral 
timidity, or suggested his secret despair at times of a cause 
of which he yet made, publicly, such a boastful profession 
of confidence. 

To the period of the war of which we are now treating, tlie 
enemy had committed a series of outrages that had raised an 
outcry for retaliation, or for some sort of retributive justice 
that, apart from the satisfaction of vengeance, would attest the 
dignity and firmness of the Confederate government. JMr. 
Davis had replied with pronunciamentos, gloomy ai)})cals, 
and melodramatic threats with respect to retaliation ; but it is 
remarkable that in not a single case had he executed the lex 
taJionis, that he had made a record of bluster, without one 
solitary performance to sustain the position of the Southern 
Confederacy as an equal combatant, with the same recourse 
to extraordinary measures as the North might claim ; that 
when brought face to face with the stern duties of retaliation, 
the imperious traits of his cliaracter had suddenly disajipeared, 
and been replaced by halting timidity and weak hesitation. 
Mumford, the martyr of New Orleans, had been hung by 
General Butler. Mr. Davis had threatened retaliation, and 
yet dropped the whole subject after he had procured a letter 
of protest to be written by General Lee, wliich was returned 
to him by the Washington authorities, with the endorsement 
that it Avas "exceedingly insulting," and tlierofore dismissed. 
The "Palmyra massacre " had gone unavenged. ]\rr. Davis 
had ordered the execution in retaliation of ten Federal pris- 
oners; but when the fatal day came tlie order was suspended, 
nothing was heard more of the threatened mehxlrania, and 
the President, having made an unworthy sliow of compliance 
with the demands of public sentiment in the South by order- 
ing the execution of ten designated prisoners, secretly went 



SECUKT HISTOKY OF THK CONFEDERACY. 253 

Ixick upon it, and wrote a ))rivat(3 telegram to suspend the 
sentence lie liad puljlic.ly |)i'(ju()iineed. In no case had an act 
of retaliation been jK^rfonned ; in no case iiad a single victim 
been demanded for the various murders committed by the 
enemy — until at last that enemy, encouraged by impunity, 
and having no fear of retributic^n l)efore his eyes, ventured 
upon a supreme act of outrage, one tliat fairly crowned his 
unparalleled boldness and atrocity in the war. 

This act was the Emancipation Proclamation of President ! 
Lincoln. It was to take effect on the 1st of January, 1863. \ 
Here was an act aimed to destroy three thousand millions of ■ 
dollars of property in the South, designed to disorganize its 
whole society, and calculated to light the flames of servile in- 
surrection in the midst of a civil war. If any thing could 
have kindled in Mr. Davis's breast a courageous resentment, 
and have laid a foundation for retaliatory measures, it might 
have been supposed that this huge wickedness would liave 
done it. It occasioned an outburst of angei' in the S(juih ; 
and propositio.n after proposition followed in the Confederate 
Congress to make some response of spirit to a measure so in- 
famous and so cruel, to mark in some way the popular sense 
of this unsurpassed outi'age of the war. 

The first motion in the Confederate Congress, when, after 
the battle of Sharpsburg, tlie preliminary announcement was 
made of the design of the Northern Government to declare 
fi'ec, at a future day, the slaves of tlie South, was to condenm 
it in a formal resolution as "a gross violation of the usages 
of civilized warhire, an outrage on the rights of private pro- 
jjcrty, and an invitation to an atrocious servile warfare." 
This resolution proceeded to declare that the proclamation of 
Abraham Lincoln "should be held up to the execration of 
mankind, and counteracted by such retaliatory measures as 



254 LIFE OF JEFFKRSON DAVIS, WITH A 

in tlio juilgnuMit of tlio Pi-osiJoiit may bo best calculatod to 
secure its witlulrawal or arrest its executicMi." Sovoral imau- 
bers of Congress made speeches which even exceeded the 
strong language of the resolution. Mr. Clark, of Missouri, 
was in favor of declaring every citizen of the Southern Con- 
federacy a soldier autliorized to put to death every man 
caught on Southern soil in arms against the government. Mr. 
Henry, of Tennessee, said that the resolution did not go I'ar 
enough. He favored the passage of a law prindding that 
u]ion any attempt being made to execute the proclamation oi' 
Abraham Lincoln, the Confederates sliould immediately hoist 
the "black flag," and proclaim a war of extermination upon 
all invaders of their soil. Another member offered a resolu- 
tion as a substitute for that referred to : — '' '^Fhat from tliis oay 
forth, all rules of civilized warfare should be discarded in the 
future defence of our country, our liberties and our lives, 
against the fell design now opeidy avowed by the Government 
of the United States to annihilate or enslave us; and tliat a 
war of exterminalion sliould henceft>rth be waged against every 
invader whose hostile foot shall cross the boundaries of these 
Confederate States." 

Such sentiments were undoubtedly extravagant and bad. 
They are signilicant, however, of the resentment aroused in 
the South by the Emancipation Proclamation, and of the 
popular demand for a measure of retaliation. Yet Congress 
was forced to perc^eive that the question of retaliation was 
exclusively an Executive one; and after indicating its own 
passions and desires in this matter, it was compelled for a time 
to commit it to the discretion and jdoasure of President Davis. 
The con/^enient disposition of the matter, for some months at 
least, was the passage of a resolution, declaring that Congress 
would sustain the President in such retaliatory measures as 
he might adopt. 



SECRET IIISTOUY OP TIIK C0NFK1)P:kACV, 255 

The response of Mr. i);ivis was practically notliing. He 
strained language to denounce tlie great act of spoliation and 
crime in tlu; pi-oclainatiou of Mi'. Lincoln ; lie altcinptcjd to 
di'own public indignation in a volume of furious words; but 
lie ventured not upon a single measure of revenge upon the 
enemy, and could invent nothing in tlio way of retribution. 
To the greatest outrage in American amuds Mr. Davis never 
had a single practical act of retribution in reply. The Eman- 
cipation Pi-ochimation is truly an instance without parallel 
in the history of war of an outrage so large provoking no re- 
si)onsive measure, suUered without practical rctoi't or romcdv. 
It passed oil' after a bi'ief rlietorical lieat on the part of Mr. 
Davis. There could be nothing more contemptible in the 
career of the Confederate President, than the mean patience 
with which he submitted to an act of the enemv which de- 
spoiled a whole people of their property, and consigned 
them to a loss and ruin unequalled in all the penalties of 
modern war. 

But there is yet something of infamous subterfuge to add 
to this record of omission of duty on the part of President 
Davis. At a date many months subsequent to that of the 
l^lmancipation Proclamation, Mr. Davis having done nothino- 
to testify his resentment of it beyond rhetorical eifusions, use- 
less expenditures of words, and at last excited by the indig- 
nation of the people, who not only saw this proclamation 
going into cifect without retaliation or cheek, but witnessed 
the enlargement of "it in the enlistment of Negro troops, saw 
it carried to the consequences of employing the emancipated 
slave either as the agent of a servile insurrection or as a 
Pcxlcral soldier, his arms turned against his Conner master, 
the Confederate President, convinced at last that something 
should be done to ajipease popular clamor, invented a subter- 



256 LIFE OF JEFFEESON DAVIS, WITH A 

fuge, probably the meanest of all his stock of expedients, to 
escape the due responsibility of his office, and to captivate by 
pretences the sentiment of the vulgar. It was only when the 
consequences of Emancipation had been realized to the extent 
we have described, and when more than one battle-field had 
been disfigured by black brigades, that Mr. Davis, in the 
later months of 1863, made the infamous proposition to re- 
lieve the Confederate Government of all responsibility for 
retaliation, b}^ bestowing it upon the States ; suggesting that 
under the local laws of each State, and in their courts, Federal 
prisoners might be prosecuted as criminals, and be made 
amenable to the statutes on the subject of Negro insurrections 
It was a most unworthy and superficial device ; a silly and 
flagitious plot to relieve the Confederate Government of a 
proper responsibility, and to saddle on the States a duty 
growing out of the war, and belonging to the former govern- 
ment as the supreme power conducting the war, and bound 
to declare a general law in this respect for all the States. If 
the States might treat as criminals the soldiers armed under 
the Emancipation Proclamation, and punish the marauders 
as common malefactors, why might not the Confederate 
Government do the same? And if Mr. Davis was willing to 
remit the duty of retaliation to the States, wh}^ was he so 
exclusive and jealous and retentive with respect to all other 
faculties of his administration in the conduct of the war — why 
make an exception of this particular matter in which his 
powers were written so plainly, and in which the jurisdiction 
of the State Avas no more coincident than in any other affair 
of the war? 

This mean proposition to abdicate to the State Governments 
retaliation upon the public enemy, was sharply reproved in 
Congress, which had, at least, sense and temper enough to re- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDEHACY. 257 

fuse to bo made a party to such a trick on the demands of 
public sentiment. In a secret session of tliis body it was 
roughly ridiculed. Mr. Yancey, Senator from Alabama, ap- 
plied to it unsparingly the reduciio ad ahsurdum. If the 
Federal soldier might be punished in a State Court, under 
the statute concerning Negro insurrections, then, one law of 
tlie State being no more sacred than another, he might be 
punished for equal reason under the law of trespass. If thp. 
Confederate Government might shift the responsibility of re- 
taliation upon the local laws of the separate States in one case, 
the same responsibility might be assumed by the latter in all 
cases. The proposition of Mr. Davis, made in a special mes- 
sage, was rejected with emphasis. Congress declared plainly 
in joint resolutions passed near the close of the year 1863, 
that "the commissioned officers of the enemy ought not to be- 
delivered to the authorities of the respective States, as swo-- 
gested in the said message, but all captives taken by the Con- 
federate forces ought to be dealt with and disposed of by the 
Confederate Government ;" it re-committed the subject of re- 
taliation to the President ; it re-affirmed its declaration that 
the Emancipation Proclamation was "inconsistent with the 
spirit of those usages which in modern warfare prevail among 
civilized nations ;" and it went further, and passed a distinct 
law, as if to impose upon the President the duty of retaliation, 
which heretofore it had been willing to leave to measures of 
his own direction. This law was as follows : 

" Every person being a commissioned oflSeer, or actinoj as such in 
the service of the enemy, who shall, during the present war, excite, 
attempt, or cause to be excited, sei-^ile insurrection, or who shall 
incite, or cause to be incited, a slave to rebel, shall, if captured, be 
put to death, or be otherwise punished, at the discretion of the court. •" 

This law was never executed in a single instance. It if. 
17 



258 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

doubtful whether it was ever published, unless in a limited 
range of official documents. The President paid no attention 
to it, and never referred to its existence. He Avas only im- 
pressed by it to the extent that he ceased to write those gloomy 
and vaporing messages about taking vengeance upon the 
enemy, which he had been tolerably safe in doing, as long as 
retaliation was an abstract speculation, a text of sentimental 
rhetoric, and not, as now, the subject of a neglected law, and 
likely, if disturbed, to develope an ugly record and to show to 
the world his weakness and his infamy. 

There have been many attempts to explain the remissness 
of retaliation on the part of Mr. Davis, not only in the instance 
of the Emancipation Proclamation and its incidents, but when 
the atrocities of the enemy were of the darkest kind, and 
when, from all parts of the South, the cries of anger, or the 
wails of despair, smote his ears. Why should he have been 
so considerate of humanity to an enemy, who constantly out- 
raged all the rules of civilized warfare, and who even insulted 
his tenderness as the cowardice of the culprit in despair? 
The effect of the non-retaliation policy, so studiously preserved 
by Mr. Davis, was not only to give particular causes of com- 
plaint to those Avho suffered from the outrages of the enemy, 
but in its moral influence, it was to diminish the true inspi- 
ration of the war in the South, to an extent Avhich we believe 
has never been justly accounted. It was to represent the 
South constantly in the position of a moral inferior ; to create 
the idea that its people, instead of equal belligerents, were cul- 
prits, evading and postponing the penalty of their crimes ; to 
interpi'et to the world the hostilities of the North as military 
execution and coercion ; to concede to the enemy the great 
moral advantage and prestige which officers of the law have 
over malefactors. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 259 

Why Mr. Davis should have thus so greatly injured the 
inspiration of the war, and^ the dignity of his government, is 
a curious problem, and one that admits a number of hypo- 
theses. There was long a painful suspicion in Eichmond 
that the President was by no means so confident of the issue 
of the war as he publicly professed to be, that he had secret 
misgivings, and that in the event of failure he had plotted liis^ 
own safety, and that he had, therefore, feared to exact any 
retribution from the public enemy, for which he might here- 
after be called personally to account. This explanation of 
the non-retaliation policy was not without plausibility. If 
the war should fail it might be to the interest of Mr. Davis 
that he should come out of it without any blood on his hands, 
and in the character of one who had conducted a moderate 
warfare; while whatever vindictive measures the enemy might 
resolve upon, in case of success, might be ingeniously diveited 
to certain mean subordinates, for whose acts of cruelty and 
oppression he might easily claim that he was not personally 
responsible. It was a detestable calculation ; but it has been 
so closely fulfilled by the actual sequel of the war, that we are 
not permitted to regard it as a mere imaginary supposition. 
Since the termination of the war, and when victims have been 
claimed of such inconsiderable agents of the Confederate 
Government, as Wirz and Braine and Surratt, it is remark- 
able that the plea has been busily made for a merciful con- 
sideration of Mr. Davis, that he was averse to any acts of even 
apparent cruelty upon the enemy, that no blood had ever been 
shed by his direct order, even in the way of retaliation, and 
that he had resisted the popular passion upon this point, 
keeping his hands scrupulously clean. This ground of mercy 
for the fallen chief of the Confederacy has appeared since the 
war in a petition sent to Washington, by some ladies of South 



2(>0 LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS. WllH A 

Cnroliiia, and in terms so distinct and ingenious as to suggest 
that thev were dictated from some quarter of ealcnlation, such 
as Ave have described. These petitioners write thus of Mr. 
Davis : — " The same lirmness and cahn views of policy, which 
on repeated occasions he disph\yed in resisting the cries, 
wliich in his region Avere raised, for sanguinary retaliation, wo 
hope will now be exhibited, in disregard of the unfeeling 
agitation Avhich seeks his life." 

John M. Daniel Avas accustomed to say that if the war re- 
sulted ao-ainst the South, Jefferson Davis would be found s;vfe 
in Europe. The ex-President could have no fear of any 
indictments for murder or cruelty ; and haA'ing taken care 
not to inculpate himself directly in those affairs Avhicli might 
most excite the resentment of the enemy, and playing him- 
self off as a humane and ehivalric conibatant. he miglit easily 
escape those passions likely to result should the North prove 
victorious after the exasperation of years of hard and ex- 
pensive wai-. 

It is not impossible that such calculations may have entered 
the mind of ^Mr. Davis. The suspicion increases when Ave 
find him constantly declining all acts of retaliation and yet 
doing so by devious processes, and all the time proclaiming 
an excessive fury of resentment for stated outrages of tlie 
enemy and yet forbearing from the very acts Avhich such 
passion, if real, would naturally produce. There must have 
been a game of hypocrisy somewhere in a difference so Avide 
betAveen professions and acts — the prolessions serving to 
gratify the anger of the South and yet the acts (acts of 
omission) calculated to appease AvhatCA'cr might be the ulti- 
mate and practical complaints of the North. No man in the 
South could Avrite or speak more strongly than Mr. Davis 
did of the outrages of the enemy ; yet no man could be 



SECUKT IIISTOUY OF TIIK CONKKDIOKACY, 261 

weaker or more derelict when lie came to trunsJate his words 
into acts. The contrast between tlic two is so sharp and 
wide that it is impossible not to admit in it i^ome charge of 
insincerity, or some supposition of a dishonest and evil calcu- 
lation. 

But more than one reason may be adduced to explain Mr, 
Davis's delinquency in the matter of retaliation; and it is not 
viiilikcly that a composition oC motives j^ovei'iied him in his 
declination of all harsh measures against the Washington 
Government as equivalents of its own outrages. His natural 
spirit was not firm enougli for a ])olicy of retaliation. He 
had a weak sentimentalism in his chariietor which made him 
the prey of all artful petitioners ; a man wlio wept easily, 
whose tears laid shallow, who was readily moved by .appeals 
to mercy at variance Avitli justice. Ux) was accessible to all 
emotional influences. "If I ever had a i)oirit to make on 
President Davis," said a Bichmond politician, '' I always got 
his pastor, Dr. Minnigerode, to see him." A character so 
shallow and hesitating was not that to i'urnish tlnjsc lii-m and 
severe measures in a state of war, where there is no place for 
the tender emotions, and where the man of iron is the type 
of wisdom and of courage. 

It is true that we have heretofore written of the courage 
of Mr. Davis, in a certain sense — as exhibited on the field of 
Manassas and elsewhere — and we are not disposed to detract 
anything from that tribute. But the President of the Con- 
federate States appears to us a striking example of that 
character, which those experienced in the world sometimes 
meet with, of persons physically brave, ready in a certain 
exaltation of spirits to put their lives at a pin's fee, and yet 
so utterly and woefully defective in moi'iil courage, that the 
meanest temptations make them their victims, and the most 



262 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

unworthy weaknesses display them to the worUh Mr. Davis 
was not a man who shirked physical dangers ; and yet 
we find him the picture of shrinking timidity on every 
appeal to moral courage, a man who wore around his Admin- 
istration a belt of preachers and women, who had no mind 
of his own, unless to display it in obstinacy to those who 
bluntly advised him, or to surrender it in weak acquiescences 
to those who ingeniously cajoled him. He had "pluck," 
combativeness ; he might have fought on any trial of physi- 
cal hardiliood ; he might have ridden grandly into the tides 
of battle with his life on his sleeve; and yet, after all, he 
might have had no moral courage, and been the man we 
have described as trembling at the vision of retribution, and 
afraid to undertake tlie tasks of justice which retaliation 
upon the enemy demanded. 

There is an excess of admiration in the world for the 
courage that despises physical dangers. More than this there 
appears to be a certain indulgence for all the weaknesses of 
men accounted brave ; and sometimes the very fact that 
these persons are weak in all other respects than that of facing 
a certain amount of pliysical peril ; that they are slaves of 
paltiy iulluences ; that they are victims of the dram-shop ; that 
they yield to the most unworthy temptations ; that the man 
who can march to a cannon is yet, like one of Napoleon's 
marshals, afraid of the spider in his coach ; that he who can 
draw his weapon in mortal conflict on the slightest provoca- 
tion is yet the slave of vice and dissipation, the sport of every 
adventurer who practices on the weak side of his character, 
has been held as a sort of lively and interesting contrast to 
the bellicose virtue of the individual. The anecdotes of 
these contradictions of character have not unfrequently been 
taken as pleasant. The man who defies death on a battle- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 263 

field, or who is willing to venture his life in a personal con- 
flict, may be a sot, or the unworthicst wretch and coward in 
every moral relation of life, and yet a certain admiration 
clings to him as the brave man, with foibles that are curious, 
rather than with faults which are detestable. The reflection 
forces itself — has not the world attached too much value to 
the mere ]:)liysical brawn which may despise danger in certain 
shapes, and is yet coupled with equivocation and disgrace in 
every true relation of moral courage. Especially does this 
reflection apply to the countrymen of Mr. Davis, where a 
coarse, untravelled people have formed an estimate of courage 
peculiarly rude ; where the person who can give most proofs 
of physical manhood, the hero who can fight on call with 
bowie-knife or pistol, who can exhibit the longest list of ad- 
ventures with women, who is the best shot, the best rider, the 
best in all contests and games of virility, is taken as the ap- 
proved pattern of courage, and is allowed almost illimitable 
indulgences for every sort of moral cowardice that he may 
choose to couple with his mere physical prowess. 

The pec^ple of the South are excessive in their admiration 
of a low physical courage. A certain amount of animal com- 
bativeness has been often vulgarly taken for a type of " South- 
ern Chivalry"; but the thoughtful and manful spirit will 
always reject such estimates of courage, or rate them at their 
due, considering that this noble virtue is not the transport 
of a passion, or the accident of a physical constitution, but 
rather the balance of just and heroic lesolutions in all the 
affairs of life. He who cannot say "No " to a temptation, who 
cannot rule his own spirit, who cannot put the opinion of 
men under his feet, and act in the secret liglit of liis own con- 
victions of right and duty — he who is the pallid instrument 
of other men's designs and influences — may be ready to risk 



264 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

his life on battle-fields, or to accept challenges to mortal con- 
flict, or to give all the vulgar exhibitions of high spirit ; yet 
he is not the brave man — neither in that sense in which the 
exalted sentences of the Christian religion have it written, 
nor in that wherein the cultivated voice of human civilization 
has decided the noblest title of humanity. 

But we wander to reflections too distant and general, con- 
cerning the kind and degree of courage in the composition of 
Mr. Davis. The design has been only to show his lack of a 
real spirited response to the supreme outrage compassed in 
the Emancipation Proclamation of Abraham Lincoln, es- 
pecially in view of his vapors of retaliation, as a remarkable 
evidence of the weakness and chicanery of the President of 
the Confederacy, and of his cowardly calculation of personal 
safety in a war, in which, on other occasions, he had breathed 
such expressions of confidence. The whole subject is inti- 
mately connected with the character of Mr. Davis ; it illus- 
trates his weakness, his moral cowardice, his habits of decep- 
tion ; and it gives the history of at least one of his principal 
games on the credulity of the South, and suggests a reOection 
on its easy confidence in its public men, and its absurd ad- 
miration of pretence and bravado, in forms the most plethoric, 
thouti'h in diss-uises the least ingenious. 

To the mind of the North, the Emancipation Proclamation, 
uninterrupted by any retaliation on the part of the Soutli, 
was the sio-nal of renewed confidence and animation in the 
war. Its moral efiect was thus vast. To be sure, coming 
after the autumn campaign of 1862, so splendid for the South, 
it did not suggest a military situation of much advantage to 
the North, one visibly calculated to support a measure which 
covild only be interpreted as one of imperious, unscrupulous 
exaction on an adversary sure to be conquered. The results 



HECIIET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDERACY. 265 

of that campaign wo liavc already distributed. The South 
had been forced back to the defensive; Lee had, been ex- 
pelled from Maryland, and Bragg had retreated to Tennessee ; 
but the balance of glory was on the side of the Con- 
federate forces ; their arms had acquired their greatest pres- 
tige, their marches had been tracked with brilliant victories, 
their retreats or retrogrades had been encumbered with rich 
spi^ils, and if the campaign liad regained no political territory, 
it had yet recovered many districts of subsistence, and was 
able to display the visible fruits of success. 

Yet the thoughtfiil mind easily discovered under these ac- 
cimiulations the fact that the Confederacy had strained itself 
in this memorable campaign, that it had put forth for the time, 
the utmost of its resources, that it had made exertions which 
it would not readily renew, and that a period of exhaustion 
was likely to ensue after such an extraordinary development 
of the strength of the South. The conscription had been 
taxed to the limits that the law allowed ; the number of able- 
bodied men was becoming fatally reduced ; the depreciation of 
the currency was near the verge beyond which it might be pre- 
cipitated into worthlessness ; and the condition of the South 
was precisely that which required time for recruitment, and 
in which the enemy might boastfully antici{)ate and amuse 
his own leisure with schemes, like the Emancipation Procla- 
mation, predicated on his final success, or even with glimpses 
of "reconstruction." 

It was thus that after the campaign of the summer and fall 
months of 1862, the South relapsed to a defensive policy. Its 
military plans for the remainrler of the year may be generally 
described as a habitual, connnon attempt to annoy the enemy, 
a lookout for the preservation of Puchmond, and the chief 
concern of keeping up the blockade of tiie Mississippi river 



266 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

by holding the strong positions of Vicksburg and Port Hud- 
son. In such a situation, it was to prepare for the great con- 
test of the summer of 1863, and from such extremity it was 
again to dispLay its arms in another campaign — a campaign 
where we shall see raised again the balance of the war at 
almost equal arms ; — so equal that we shall find the decision 
trembling on the edge of a battle-field, and cast by a single 
incident that fortune threw in the hesitating scale. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 267 



CHAPTER XVII 

The Battles of Murfieesboro', of Fiedericksburg, and of Chancellorsville— A Trio of Important 
Contests— A Singular and Roinantio Incident of the Field of Fredericksburg— stonewall 
Jackson Makes a Proposition to Massacre the Enemy in the Night— Parallel between the 
Battles of Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville— Death of Jackson— Mr. Davis's Tribute to Him 
-Character of Stonewall Jackson-Poverty of Genius in the War— Jackson and his Sopho- 
morical Admirers-The Rag-Tag Style of Eulogistic Criticism-The Religious Character of 
Jackson not Admirable— Estimate of Him as a Commander— His Gloomy Ideas of War— lie Pro- 
poses " the Black Flag "-His Enormous and Consuming Ambition-Description of His Person 
—In what Respects, he was the Representative of the South— A Particular Description of his 
Last Moments. 

The battles of Murfreesboro', of Fredericksburg and of 
Chancellorsville, occurring after the date to which we have 
brought down the general storj of the war, do not claim ex- 
tended notices, even in a purel}^ military history of the Con- 
federacy (which latter it is scarcely necessary to repeat is not 
within the limited design of our work). They were brilliant 
incidents of arms ; they were large and bloody contests ; but 
they are not connected with any great chain of movements, 
they left but little impression on the fortunes of the Con- 
federacy, and the military era of greatest interest after that 
we have placed in the autumn of 1862, v/hen ttie war was 
carried to the frontier by Lee and Bragg, may be taken as 
occurring not until the midsummer of 1863, wlien two im- 
portant campaigns in the two great divisions of the Con- 
federacy culminated at Gettysburg and Vicksburg. The 
military history of the Confederacy, so far, may be divided 
into eras: first, Manassas and its consequences; second, the 
autumn campaign of 1862 ; and third, the movements to which 



268 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

we have 3^et to refer, as the second experiment of the invasion 
of the enemj'-'s country and the breaking of the line of the 
Mississippi. We have not yet reached in the just course of 
our narrative this third period of interest in the military 
fortunes of the Confederacy ; but between it and the second 
period, as referred to in a former chapter, there is a space of 
only slight and desultory interest ; for however great were the 
three battles we have named, they were only single incidents 
and left but shallow traces on the general military situation. 

Fredericksburg and Cliancellorsville are chiefly significant 
as defeats of the fourth and fifth attempts of the " On to Bich- 
mond " adventure of the enemy. But these two fields and 
that of Murfreesboro' are curiously alike in illustrating the 
barrenness of Confederate victories, and repeating the uniform 
story of successes not followed up, of glorious '•' first days '' of 
contest with an invariable sequel of disappointment. After 
all, they were repetitions of the untimely halt at Manassas : 
a comparative estimate of mortality lists, a balance of carnage 
in favor of the South, the escape of the enemy, while the 
public waited to hear of the surrender or annihilation of an 
army, and the fruits of victory gathered only in the dust of a 
retreat. 

The field of Fredericksburg had an interestino- incident, 
which has not appeared in the common histories of the war. 
After night had fallen upon the contest and when the shat- 
tered remnants of Burnside's army were cowering under cover 
of the town, Stonewall Jackson — a commander who, whatever 
he might have had of pure and admirable elements of charac- 
ter, was fierce in his notions of war almost to savagery, who 
believed that "war meant lighting and fighting " — made the 
extraordinary and fearful proposition of stripping his men 
t-o the waist and hurling them in the darkness upon the 



SECRET HISTORY OF THK CONFEDKRACV. 269 

enemy, trusting to puralj-zc his already clenionilized forces by 
tlie terror and novelty of such an apparition. This story of 
Jackson has been doubted, and has excited some unpleasant 
criticism in the newspapers. But the incident has been re- 
lated to the author as having occurred in a council of war in 
which Jackson dissented from the opinion of General Lee, 
that the enemy would make another attack, and then pro- 
posed that the artillery should be collected u})on the hills 
directly in front of the town, and a heavy fire be opened 
upon it, and that the men of his corps be stripped to the ) 
waist to distinguish them from the enemy, and under cover [ 
of the artillery fire force their way into the town, and 
bayonet all who were not similarly attired. "My troops 
shall not be allowed to fire," stipulated the grim commander; 
'■they shall use only the bayonet." There was only one 
pontoon at the town, wliich would not have afforded egress 
for one fifth of Burnside's army ; the bridges at Deep Eun 
could have been easily secured ; and to the suggestion that 
his own men might sufi'er from the artillery fire, when min- 
gled with the enemy, Jackson replied that it should cease 
when his troops were once in the town and that " their yells 
would tell when they were at work." The plan for one of ,! 
the post horrible butcheries of the war seemed complete, "^ 
and the imagination can scarcely conceive the scenes that -., 
might have ensued .-—twenty thousand men stripped for the 
work of death— doing it in darkness— a fitful sheet of flame 
on the hills to light them to their task— an army pursued 
from street to street as from one slaughter-pen to another— 
a town choked with artillery and wagons— tiie sharp scream 
of death in every corner of it— the black womb of the night 
giving forth the strange and piercing cries of mortal agony, 
as untold horrors issue from it and travel in demon shlipes,' 
an air indistinct and poisonous with blood ! 



270 LIFE or JEFFERSON DAVIS WITH A 

But these scenes were not to occur, however sure might 
be the destruction of the enemy. There was one suggestion 
to which Jackson had not a read}' reply. There were some 
thousands of non-combatants yet in Fredericksburg, among 
them women and children ; and General Lee was unwilling 
to risk their safety by firing on the town. He must re- 
luctantly, however, have declined the proposition of Jackson, 
for the fact is that the infantry of the First Corps (it was the 
Second that was to strip for the attack) had been posted to 
defend the artillery and were Avaiting the signal for the 
bombardment, when the order came to them to retire within 
their breastworks. The next night — the 15th of December 
1862 — a Federal army yet numbering some sixty thousand 
men moved quietly out of the jaws of destruction, crossed 
the river without molestation, and left the Confederates to 
rejoice over another barren victory.* 

* A Confederate officer, unknown to the author, and of course un- 
solicited by him, has recently published a communication in the 
newpapers in reply to an attempt of these to discredit the statement, 
which appears to have been tirst publicly made by this author, of 
General Jackson's novel proposition of a night attack, as related 
above, and in commentary on the yet more foolish attempt of some 
sensitive country editors in the South to represent the story as a 
slander on the memory of the illustrious dead. After testifying to 
nearly every incident related in the text above, he says :— " The 
writer of this communication has a most proft)und respect for the 
memor}' of General Stonewall Jackson, yet he does not believe with 
others that the assertion made by Mr. Pollard, that the illustrious 
hero desired to make a night attack upon the enemy Avith his troops 
stripped, is a slander upon his memoiy, but he docs believe that if 
there had been more stripping to the waist, and night attacks, with 
fewer days of thanksgiving and fastings and prayers, the South 
would have less barren victories to rejoice over and less to mourn for 
now." 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONPEDERACy. 271 

Cbancellorsville was a repetition of Frcdevicksburg — the 
same story of the retreat of the enemy across the same river, 
the exact reproduction of the status quo, except so many men 
killed and wounded, the wonder of a few weeks. These two 
great battles were thus described in the Riclimond Examiner: 
— " If this war was a tournament, we miglit desire nothing 
better than the manner in which it has been conducted by 
these two hosts np to the present time. The six months 
they have passed between Falmouth and Fredericksburg 
furnishes a fair specimen of their extensive intercourse. 
After long and careful preparation, the Grand Army crosses 
over, a hundred thousand strong ; fifty or sixty thousand 
Confederates, well posted, fight with them ; the Grand Army 
is prodigiously whipped — loses twenty thousand — and then 
marches back to camp. After a month or more of recruit- 
ing, it comes again — finds the same Confederates reposing in 
the same fields — is whipped again, loses more men, and 
marches back to camp in the same order. On the occurrence 
of these events, great praise is given to General Lee, and 
several Yankee Generals are dismissed the service, relieved 
of their commands, or sent away to torture old men, or fight 
women and little children, in some imfortunate district of the 
country subject to the striped flag. If we could import ship- 
loads of Irish and Dutch, after each of these 'victories,' no 
way of carrying on this war more favorable could be desired. 
But, while our army kills a great many Yankees, Dutch, and 
Irish, on one of these splendid field days, it also loses a con- 
siderable number of brave men. One of these is a greater 
loss to us than three of the others to the enemy. If that loss 
were counterbalanced by some military advantage Avhich 
might serve as the foundation for future hopes, it would not 
be a loss at all, but a wise expenditure. Unfortunately, such 



272 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAYIS WITH A 

victories change nothing. The United States and the Con- 
federacy preserve their proportions and attitudes. The war 
will last forty j-ears on these terms. Take the last of them, 
Chancellorsville. "What have we gained bv that glorious 
battle ? The poor lands of Spottsj'lvania have received a 
costly manure, and that is all. After the light, the general 
order for both armies might have been the mnsician's com- 
mand at the conclusion of a quadrille — ' as you were !' — 
Hooker in StalYord, Lee in Spottsvlvania, the Eappahannock 
between." 

But Chancellorsville has a veiled place among the victories 
of the South. Here Stonewall Jackson gave up his life ; an 
irreparable loss, one which the arniy wherein he had com- 
manded felt to the end of the war. " He fell," said ;\[r. Davis, 
speaking rather sophomorically, "like the eagle, his own 
feather on the shaft that was dripping with his life-blood." 
He had been mortally wounded by the fire of his own men, 
who mistook him for an enemy. His death created a black 
day in the South that in distinctness and importance may be 
measured as an era ; and the public mind was never divested 
of the imagination that with him expired the most heroic 
and fortunate spirit of the Army of Northern Virginia. 

Some space should be taken here to say something of the 
character of this commander, in view of its elevation in the 
war, and in consideration of its exception to the general bar- 
renness of subjects of biographical interest — true heroes — in 
a contest so large, so excited, and 3'et so destitute of appa- 
ritions of individual genius on the stage of action. It has 
been customary in the South to speak, and not without a mix- 
ture of vanity, of the great figure this war will make when 
the future historian comes to deal with it elaborately, and to 
explore its operations. Yet, how meagre the biographical in- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 27c> 

terest of this struggle; how scant in its illustrations of any 
conspicuous virtues or novelties of personal character; how 
unfruitful of great or remarkable men ! It is in the domi- 
nant feature of historical interest that the late war, of which 
we usually speak in so many superlative phrases, is singu- 
larly and fatally deficient. It is remarkable for immense 
physical phenomena, rather than for intellectual and moral 
display. What is wonderful in it is the extent of physical 
masses, the cloaca populonim, stupendous sums of money, 
monuments of carnage ; but how paltry and flowerless its 
crops of men, how few its productions of genius, how slight 
those illustrations which make up the personal, heroic inter- 
est of history ! It produced, of course, if only by the rule of 
comparison, some military celelTrities — these even few. and 
one only of surpassing fame ; but we look in vain for the in- 
tellectual contagion of a great excitement, for those tongues 
of fire with which men speak in a great war, for those 
thoughts of orator, poet, and priest, which burn along the op- 
posing lines like signal-fires, and make of modern war a con- 
flict of inspirations as well as of arms. 

We do not propose to invite here invidious comparisons 
between the military leaders on cither side in the late war, 
And yet, as we have already referred to one of them as of 
surpassing fame, we may take this name apart, as at least one 
conspicuous centre of biographical interest in the war. We 
refer to Stonewall Jackson — whose life, as we have seen, 
paid the price of the insignificant victory of Chaucellorsville. 
Around this man, whose fame has already gone, on those 
quick messengers, the wings of battle, to the ends of the 
world, there must necessarily congregate, in the future, some 
of the most impressive memories of the war ; and his biogra- 
phy especially the study of his peculiar character, becomes 
IS 



27.1: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

at once a dominant subject of historical interest, and a stand- 
point of narrative. Whoever may hereafter Avrite profoundly 
and philosophically a history of the Southern Confederacy, 
must take Jackson as a central figure; and he must mingle 
his biography, at least the characterization of the man, with 
many parts of liis story, thereby dramatizing, coloring it, and 
binding up the attention of the reader with personal sympa- 
thies and heroic aspirations. 

There have been a number of sophomorical pens in the 
South which have been fleshed on the character of Stonewall 
Jackson ; he is the easy subject of poetasters and silly young- 
men, who have a fancy for fine writing. It is painful to wit- 
ness how such characters suffer from the glare of eulogium ; 
and it is humiliating to confess that we have had scarcely any 
estimate of this great commander in the South, more thouo-ht- 
ful than garish verses and stilted panegyrics. x\n example 
of this sort of tribute we have lately seen in a rag-tag of 
romance and the cheap poetry of literary enc3'"clopedias pnh- 
lished under the title of " The Character of Stonewall 
Jackson," one of the lowest and most wretched of its class 
of juvenile daubs, unworthy to be mentioned out of the college 
debating society, but significant of the manner in which great 
men are usually made to suffer from a style not above the 
composition of school boys, fulsome and silly transports pro- 
ceeding from too free a use of Authon's hand-books, and 
classical mj'thologies. It is the penalty of the great man to 
suffer from "the dunce's puff";" and the thoughtful and 
scholarly mind grieves at the iniliction of the smatterer. The 
character of Stonewall Jackson, having sustained so much 
of excessive eulogy, demands indeed a sober and analy- 
tical review ; it is a character rare, profound, and not to 
be dismissed on a tide of fine writing, composed of "elegant 



SECKET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 2/0 

extracts," poetical quotations, and illustrations from the Ilindoo ' 
mythologies and the Viri JRomse. 

It will be the especial and exact task of the military histo- 
rian, the expert critic, to adjust Jackson's peculiar fame in 
arms and to determine its details. It is just that his lil'e 
should be regarded from a high and critical military point of 
view, for here is its excellent and almost exclusive interest ; 
and, besides, it is remarkable how much he has already suf- 
fered from the inaccurate and overdrawn estimates of incom- 
petent critics. His only considerable biographer (Dr. Dab- 
uey, a Presbyterian clergyman,) has fallen into the lamentable 
error of regarding the religious and even sectarian character 
of his hero as the chief interest of his life, and sul)ordinating 
to it his wonderful military career and his character as a 
master of war. So far is this estimate in error, that we may 
even venture a remark — which will probably be novel and 
distasteful to many readers — that the religious element in 
General Jackson's life has come in for an nndue share of pub- 
lic attention ; that it was among the least admirable parts of 
his character ; and that it was singularly and painfully defi- 
cient. 

Of this aspect of the life of the great Southern commander, 
the author has had occasion, in some historical sketches of the 
war, to deliver an opinion, perhaps as unpopular as it is 
novel. He says: "There are considerations which make 
Jackson's piety of very partial interest. It is true that he 
was an enthusiast in religion, that he was wonderfully atten- 
tive in his devotions, and that prayer was as the breath of 
his nostrils. To one of his friends he declared that ho had 
cultivated the habit of 'praying v/ithout ceasing,' and con- 
necting a silent testimony of devotion with every familiar act 
of the day. ' Thus,' he said, ' When I take my meals, there 



276 LIFK OF JEFFERSON PA VIS. "WITH A 

is the graoo, \Vhou I t;\ko a draught of water 1 ahvava 
pause, as my palate receives the relreshment. to lift tip inv 
heart to God in thanks and prayer for the water of life. 
"Whenever I drop a letter in the box, I send a petition along 
with it for God's blessing npon its mission, and npon the per- 
son to whom it is sent. When I break the seal of a letter 
just received. I stop to pray to Gotl that lie may prepare me 
for it« contents, and make it a messenger of good.' But, not- / 
withstanding the extreme fervor of Jackson's religion, it is 
remarkable that he kept it for certain places and companies: 
that he was disposed to be solitary in its exercise; and that 
ho was siniinlarlv innocent of that Cromwellian fanaticism 
that mixes religious invocations with orders and ntteranees 
on a battle-field, lie prayed in his tent ; he delighted in long 
talks with the many clcrgynuMt who visited him; he poured 
out the joys and aspirations of his faith in }irivate correspon- 
dence; but he seldom introduced religion into the oniinary 
conversation of his military life; and he exhibited this side 
of his character in the arn\y in scarcely any thing more than 
Sunday services in his cam]\ and a habitual brief line in all 
his official reports, acknowledging the divine favor. Ho was 
A'cry attentive to these outward observances ; but his religious 
habit was shy ai\d solitary; he had none of the activity of the 
priest; we hear but little of his work in the hospitals, of pri- 
vate ministrations by the death-bed, and of walks and exer- 
cises of active charity." 

llavelock distributed tracts in the Ibitish army; Viokers 
comforted the dying in the trenches, and held iM-ayer-meetings 
within the range of the enemy's guns. We do not hear of 
such noble and amiable otlices performed by Jackson, His 
religion lacked in active benevolence; it was a cold, intro- 
speotivo religion, subjective in its experiences, severe, no 



SKCUKT iiisTOKY ov TiiK oom<'i:i»i;kA(.;v. J7/ 

doubt, ill il,s S('ir-(lis(ti|)liiio, I'.orrci-t, in its l;iilli, Itiil. with lew 
uDi'ks, \'c\v visible testimonies of zr;il in the iisu;il roiiiulsoL' 
Christian duty. Ills religion was in no way mixed with tho 
administration ol' liis comma,nd. in his military int(MMonrso 
ho was the military eomnianiU'r. On the held ol' l)a,t,th> he 
was tlu^ iKissioiiati', vlistine.t, luirsh coiiiniaiider, wiiose sliarp 
and strident, orders were inexorable as messengers ol late, lie 
liud no religicuis ai)i)ea.ls or exhortations to make, to liis men ; 
if he prayed in a,t'tion, it was in invariable; silence; he never 
dropped a word ol' regret on tho eonipiert'd field, sueh as 
sjicctaclcs ot" (loath have often moved benevi>leni men to 
utter; he never eomforted the dying, or visited the hosj)itals; 
lie had no peeuliar se.luMues of benevolence in his army 
(beyond tho usnal Sunday piv-aching); he was no winner ol' 
tiiGuls, no messeni>'er t)f eonversions anil revivals; in brief, ho 
was utterly delieient in those aetivo and ]U-iestly olVices which 
the popular mind associa,tes with the ('hristian hero, lie was 
wiirni enough in his self-eoinmunions, in prayer, and in inter- 
course with a lew intimate friends; but his religion was essini- 
tially a selfish, iutelleetual I'anatieism, that seldom a,ppeared 
out of his meditatii)ns, wdiei'e it was exeessively nurseil. It, 
did not go forth on the divine ei'rauils of charity. It was a 
religion curious rather than lovable. There was pi-oba,bIy 
but little of philanthrojiy in daekson's eoiuposilion. lie did 
not have (he (•harming amiability of Lee; he was disjiosed lo 
I'ccrimination with his ollieers, stern and exacting in his com- 
mands ; lie was naturally of an excessive temper, liarsli and 
domineering; and we are disjxjsed to think that it retpiin-d 
all the gracie of his (.■hristian chai^u'liM- and llu; stwei'est dis- 
ciidinc of his religion to keep within bounds his constitutional 
impulses of anger. 

While we thus lessen {no doubt to tlu; surprise of many 



2iS LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

readers) the popular regards for Jackson as a Christian hero. 
^ it is yet to observe him in his supreme character of a master 
of war, the surpassing military genius of the South. Tt is 
here where the chief interest of his life resides ; here where 
the biographer should have pointed and held attention. He 
was a " heaven-born General/' said the Londtm Times, a journal 
least accustomed to extravagant phrases, and almost historical 
in its deliberate measure of language. He was a born soldier 
— natus est, non fackis, nascitar no n Jit ; ho had lar more of the 
inspiration of war than Lee. He was undoubtedly superior 
to the latter, in the sense that genius is superior to the highest 
//• intellect, that it has more self-possession and readiness, that it 
acts with intuition and rapidity on instant combinations ; 
thus having advantage of the latter, and executing while it. 
has taken time to meditate. Jackson knew, as by intuition, 
when and where to strike the enemy ; he had an almost in- 
fallible insight into his condition and temper ; he marched to 
his purpose with that supreme self-coniidence, that absolute 
certainty, which always designate the efforts of genius. He 
had the inspiration of war rather than its pedantry. He must 
have been really deficient in military learning, for. as a pro- 
fessor at the Institute of Virginia, he Avould have had abun- 
dant opportunities, unavoidable occasions, no matter how i^n- 
fortunate and blundering he was as an instructor, to let out 
the contents of his mind, to blurt them in some way ; but his 
reputation there was quite as remarkable for a blank mind as 
foi" a bad deliver}^ Yet he was not onl}'- the most brilliant 
of Confederate commanders, but the most uniformly success- 
ful. It is remarkable of him that he Avas never suprised ; that 
he was never routed in battle ; that he never had a train or 
any organized portion of his army captured by the enemy ; 
and that he never made intrenchments. 



SECRET HISTOUY OF TIIK CONKKDEKACY. 279 

A coiniiion error lias ])veva,i]cd tluit Jiicksou's iiiililary 
faculty was a partial one: tluit lie was brilliant in exocutino- 
the parts assigned him by his superiors, but that he was 
scarcely competent to })lau and originate for hiniscU'. When 
he fell, General Lee deplored the loss as that tT his " light 
arm," and the phrase has been too literally or narrowly taken, 
as meaning that Jackson was chielly valuable in executing 
the plans of the commander-in-chief. This estimate does him 
great injustice, and ignores some of the most important parts 
of his career. Indeed, thei'C was, on the S(juthern sidt; in the 
war, no military genius more complete, more diversilied in its 
accomplishments, more universal in the range of arms, and in 
its methods of illustration. His |)lans were as excellent as his 
executions, llis famous campaign of 18G2, in the Valh\y ot' 
Virginia, was of his own origination, further than that he had 
been placed there by Johnston to draw attention from Rich- 
mond ; but it was not expected that he would act olfensively. 
until the lunvs electrified the country that he had defeatetl 
.four separate armies, marched four hundi'ed miles in forty 
days, neutridized a force of sixty thousand men designed to 
operate against Kichmond, and was sweeping through the 
mountain-passes to the relief of the Confederate capital in a 
blaze of glory. The movements that constituted this cam- 
paign were as precise as were ever adjusted by military skill, 
and the diagram that describes them remains one of the 
nicest strategic studies of the war Again, the great event of 
Chancellorsville — the movement on Hooker's hank, when 
dackson blazed from the Wilderness, sudden and consuming 
as the lightning— was his own conception, urged upon Lee; and 
the night before the great warrior fell, he had planned beneath 
the jnnes, and by the light of a camp-lire, this masterpiece of 
the most famous victory of the Conlederates. It was the 



280 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, -WITH A 

characteristic, crowning repetition of his favorite strategy on 
the enem\' 's flanks ; dealing those sndden and mortal blows 
which show the nerve of a great coiumander, and illustrate 
the precision of genius. 

Jackson had that rare and interesting test of genius — the 
support of a weak physique by the transports of the inind. 
In his campaigning he was as impervious to the elements, as 
strono- and sjrim as Charles XII. of Sweden, the iron ^varrlor 
of his age. At ordinary times he was weak and whimsical 
as to health ; in the life of the professor he was dyspeptic 
and hypochondriac ; but in the excitements of war he was 
equal to almost incredible hardships, and the animation of 
his genius alone seems to have made him a type of endu- 
rance. He was never absent a day from his connnand ; he 
often slept without au}^ thing but a blanket between him and 
the mud or the snow ; he ate with almost mechanical indiffer- 
ence as to the quality of his food ; vigilant, elastic, always in 
motion, he excelled all other Confederate commanders in 
activity and endurance, and made his " foot-calvary " the 
wonder of the country. When his brigade was making a 
forced march to the first Manassas, it bivouacked near the 
railroad, and the volunteers, unused to such fatigue, mur- 
mured at the necessity of setting guards for the night. 
Jackson pitied their weariness ; he replied that he liimself, 
alone, would do the guard duty for that night ; and during 
all its lonely hours, when his men Avere stretched on the 
ground, worn out, the commander stalked on his rounds, 
disdaining the least refreshment of sleep, and wrapped in un- 
known meditations. At another time, when, in the harshest 
depths of winter, and through a raging, merciless storm, he 
marched towards the headwaters of the Potomac ; Avhen 
overwearied men sank by the way to die, or slipped down 



SKCMiKT HISTORY OK 'I'llK CONFEDKKACY. 281 

tlie precipices ovei'hiid willi ice; wlieii tlu; animals of liis 
ti'ains g'avc out, or sluiubled along' with l)lc('(ling' muzzles ; 
wlien many of his shelterless troops froze dead iu the night- 
time, and their gloomy comrades murmured against their 
commander; on the toilsome and agonizii^.g march through 
snow-lields and along the yawning precipices full of hlack, 
jagged rock and ghostly-frosted shapes, Jackson was yet the 
silent, grim, inexorable General, the only man in the com- 
mand who never uttered a word of sullering, although 
sharing the hai'dships and ])i-ivations of the commonest 
soldier, apparently having no thoughts, no feelings, beyond 
the victory, to which he toiled on the narrow mountain-path, 
through the wreck of winter, the ravages of death, and the 
defiances of nature. His (constitution was naturally weak, 
but it was braced by an extraordinary will ; and his endri- 
rancc was probably an illustration of that very physical 
strength which comes from the ti-ansports of genius. 

lie had another remarkable trait, which has often been ob- J— 
served in great military commanders: a cold method, which 
has sometimes been taken for cruelty, but it is really nothing 
more than the expression of the severe and supreme idea of 
war. lie had no weak seutiinentalism, and he was even 
averse to much of the ostentation and refinement of arms. 
War for him had a gloomy, terrible meaning; it was the 
shedding of blood, wounds, death. Once an inferior officer 
was regretting that some Federal soldiers liad been killed in 
a display of extraordinary courage when they might as readily 
luivc been captured. Jackson replied, curtly, "Shoot them 
all ; I don't want them to be brave." He had a gloomy, 
fierce idea of war, which we are forced to confess was some- . 
times almost savage in its expressions. It was testified by 
Governor Letcher, in a distinct and authentic manner, during 



2S2 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

tlie life-time of Jackson, that, from tlie opening of the war, 
the latter favored the black flag, and thought that no prisoner 
should be taken in a war invading the homes of the South. 
The fact is, Jackson had no politics, not a particle of political 
animosity in the war, and, in this respect, represented many 
of his countrymen, who onh^ realized that an issue of arms 
was made, and that they were called npon to defend their 
homes against invaders, whom the newspapers represented to 
be no better then marauders and incendiaries. Jackson had 
only the idea of the soldier — to fight, and to fight in the 
most terrible manner. It Avas not a natural cruelty, a consti- 
tutional harshness, but a stern conception of war and its 
dread realities — the soldier's disposition for quick, decisive, 
destructive work. 

We are aware that we have disturbed some popular 
notions about the fi^vorite hero of the South. But we are 
endeavoring to obtain the truth of a somewhat niysterious 
character ; and we have yet to notice the most complete de- 
lusion that the common mind has attached to the name of 
Jackson. It is, that he was a cold figure in a round of duty, 
operated only by conscientious motives, deaf to praise and 
destitute of ambition. The author recollects, on one occa- 
sion, writing some encomium on Jackson, in a Eichmoud 
journal, and remarking thereupon that Jackson wonld proba- 
bly never read it, and undoubtedly cared nothing for public 
opinion. "You are utterly mistaken," spoke up John M. 
Daniel, the editor ; " he is to-day the most ambitious man 
within the limits of the Southern Confederacy." 

A close inspection of Jackson's life, and especially of his 
peculiar and masking manners, shows that he really had an 
enormous, consuming ambition. It was an ambition that re- 
sided in the depths of his nature ; that ate into and honey- 



SKCllET HTSTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 283 

combed his heart; that boumleJ ami llactuatcd in every pulse 
of his being. He was ahnost fierce in tlic confession of this 
secret feeling in the beginning of his military career. When 
once asked if he had felt no trepidation when he made most 
extraordinary exposures of his person in some of the famous 
battles of the Mexican war, he replied that the oidy anxiety 
of which he was conscious in any of these engagements was a 
fear lest he should not meet danger enough to make his con- 
duct under it as conspicuous as he desired; and as the peril 
grew greater, he rejoiced in it as his opportunity for distinc- 
tion. He courted the greatest amount of danger for the 
greatest amount of glory ; and this sentiment of the true 
soldier survived to his last moments. 

But it is to be observed that Jackson's ambition was of a 
true, lofty sort, quite unlike that vulgar passion which 
makes men itch for notoriety, and constantly place them- 
selves in circumstances and attitudes to attract public atten- 
tion. Such an ambition (if the term may be so profaned) is 
the quality of mean souls; and even its little, noisy prizes 
are worthless, for it is remarkable that mere notoriety gene- 
rally recoils upon itself, and that those who make them- 
selves notorious, at last tax })ublic attention to find out some- 
thing disreputable or ridiculous about them. Jackson's 
passion was that fine and lofty ambition which pursues 
idealities; which looks to a name in history, and which, averse 
to the mere noisy, evanescent gifts of popularity, actually 
shuns notoriety, is pained by all vulgar and meretricious 
displays, and is constantly maintaining a close and sensitive 
reserve. Such ambition is the property of grand and noble 
souls. It is most interesting to regard its reserves, its dis- 
guises, its taciturn moods, its apparent want of sympathy 
with immediate surroundings, and the common mistake the 



284: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

world makes in designating as emotionless, ascetic men, 
those who are daily and nightly consumed by grand aspira- 
tions. An ambition of this sort pursues only the ideal ; it 
finds its happiness in self-culture and self-approval, in secret 
aspiration, in communion with the historical and universal ; 
it is but the vulgar counterfeit, the low desire, that seeks the 
coarse rewards of popularity in offices, in applause, in news- 
paper paragraphs ; that imagines mere noise is the acclama- 
tion of glory, and mistakes ''a dunce's puff for fame." Jack- 
son, no doubt, valued " skilled commendation," while he did 
not mistake the penny-adines of the newspaper for the in- 
scriptions of history ; he was not entirely insensible to the 
praise of his contemporaries; but what he mostly and chiefly 
prized was the name in history — an aspiration after the ideal, 
and not the vulgar hunt for notoriety and its gifts. Such an 
ambition is consonant with the most refined spirit of Chris- 
tianity ; it resides in the depths of great minds ; and it easily 
escapes observation, because those moved by it are generally 
silent men, of mysterious air and mechanical manners, living 
within themselves, conscious that few can enter into sympathy 
with them, and constantly practicing the art of impenetrable 
reserve. 

The very awkwardness of Jackson's manners, his taciturn 
habit, his constraint in company, the readiness with which 
he was put to embarrassment, were marks of sensitive 
ambition, with its supreme self-confidence, which is yet not 
vanity, its raw self-regard which is yet not conceit, rather 
than evidences of a strained and excessive modesty, blunder- 
ing in its steps and painfully protesting its unworthiness. It 
is a superficial, common mistake of the world to designate as 
"modest" men, or as persons holding low opinions of them- 
selves, those who are awkward and bashful in societv, who 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 285 

blusii easily when confronted in a general conversation, or 
are constrained and embarrassed in the conventionalism of 
social intercourse. But an observation more studious than 
that of the drawing-room, and general assembly, often dis- 
covers under such manners the very sensitiveness of a su- 
preme self-appreciation, the chafe or reserve of a great, proud 
spirit, without opportunity to assert itself. It is thus we may 
explain how the shy and clumsy manners of Jackson, which 
made him the butt of social companies, yet covered au 
enormous self-regard, and masked the ambition which de- 
voured him. Mr. John Esten Cooke, who was near his 
person in the war, declares : " The recollection is still pre- 
served by many of his personal peculiarities ; his simplicity 
and absence of supicion when all around were laughing at 
some of his odd ways, his grave expression and air of innocent 
inquiry when some jest excited general merriment, and he 
could not see the point ; his solitary habits and self-contained 
deportment ; his absence of mind, awkwardness of gait, and 
evident indifference to every species of amusement." 

There is a common disposition to caricature great men, to 
exaggerate their peculiarities, and to discover eccentricities. 
It comes, probably, from a low literary adventure, a design 
to point paragraphs at the expense of truth. Jackson has 
suffered greatly from such caricature; he has been represented 
as uncouth and odd in the most various particulars, and the 
apocrypha of the Bohemians have given the most conflicting 
1 representations of his person and manners. There was noth- 
ing really very extraordinary in these ; but it is surprising 
what different opinions have been held as to the comeliness 
of the man. We may quote here from some of our own 
personal recollections of Jackson, written on another occasion, 
what we yet think the most correct description of the hero : 



286 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

" To the vulgar eye, he was a chimsj-looking man, and his 
roughly-cut features obtained for him the easy epithet of an 
ugly man. But to the eye that makes of the human face the 
janua animi, and examines in it the traces of character and 
spirit, the countenance of Jackson was superlatively noble and 
interesting. The outline was coarse ; the reddish beard was 
scraggy ; but he had a majestic brow, and in the blue eyes 
was an introverted expression, and just sufficient expression 
of melancholy to show the deeply -earnest man. But the 
most striking feature, the combative sign of the face, was the 
massive iron-bound jaw — that Avhich Bulwer declares to be 
the mark of the conqueror, the facial characteristic of Coesar 
and William of Normandy, the latter of whom he has brought 
before our eyes in one of his most splendid romances. In 
brief, while common curiosity saw nothing to admire in 
Jackson, a closer scrutiny discovered a rare and interesting 
study. It was not the popular picture of a bizarre and 
austere hero ; it was that of a plain gentleman, of ordinary 
figure, but with a lordly face, in which serious and noble 
thoughts were written without effort or affectation." 

The views the present author has taken of Jackson scarcely 
correspond to the beaten types of the man, and their novelty 
may be unpleasant, and provocative of criticism in some 
quarters. But we conceive the necessity of a profound ex- 
ploration, a searching analysis of a character so central and 
dramatic in the war, that stands in so many important his- 
torical connections. Many of the most important events of 
the war must be grouped around Jackson, and the veins of 
his single dominant character must run through many pages 
of the general narrative. We cannot exaggerate the impor- 
tance of a correct study of the man. In many respects he 
was the representative of his countrymen. His chaste and 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 287 

noble ambition represented the aspirations of the best and 
most cultivated men of the South, as opposed to a mania in 
the North for noisy and visible distinctions ; his innocence of 
politics was extremely characteristic of perhaps a majority of 
the Southern soldiers, who fought more from martial instincts 
than from political convictions; and his superb valor illus- 
trated the sentiment of the South that thinks personal courage 
a virtue and an ornament, and ranks it first among the titles 
of admiration. It is indispensable that an influence that con- 
tributed so much to the war should be carefully analyzed ; 
that a person so conspicuous in it should be correctly por- 
trayed ; and that the character of Stonewall Jackson should be 
placed among its first historical studies. 

The last moments of the great warrior have been variously 
described. The following statement is derived from the 
exact and literal accounts of his physician. Within two 
hours of his death, he was told distinctly that there was no 
hope, that he was dying ; and he answered, feebly but firmlv, 
" Very good ; it is all right." A few moments before he 
died, he cried out in his delirium, " Order A. P. Hill to pre- 
pare for action 1 Pass the infantry to the front rapidly ! Tell 
Major Hawks — " then stopped, leaving the sentence unfi- 
nished. Presently a smile of ineft'able sweetness spread itself 
over his pale face, and he said, quietly, and with an expression ^ 
as if of relief, " Let us cross over the river, and rest under the 
shade of the trees." And so, with these beautiful, tj-pical 
words trembling on his lips, the soul of the great soldier, 
taxed with battle, and trial, ana weariness, passed through the 
deep waters of Death, and found sweet and eternal rest. 



2S8 LIFE OF JEFFEKSON DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTEE XYIII. 

Iticveased Spirit of tlie Army of Northern Virginia — A Second Experiment of Invasion Origi- 
nated by General Lee and Opposed l>y Mr. Davis — Some Accounts of a Secret Correspondence 
between the Commander and the Vresident — A Curious and perhaps Fatal Misapprehension 
conceruins tho Campaign — Failure of Mr. Davis to Oixler General Beauregard to A'irginia — ■ 
The Battle of Gettysburg ths Worst Krror of General Leo's Military Life — He Makes a Disin- 
genuous Account of it — True Theory of the Action — Ketlections on tho Military Character of 
Lee — Gettysburg, a Divided Name in tho Calendar of Battles — Why there were No Popular 
Reproaches of Lee— The Disaster of A'icksburg, a Very Different Story — Leo and Johnston, 
'• Par Mobile Fratnun " of the War — The " President's Pots " — John C. Pemberton, an Obscure 
Jlilitary Man Put in Command of Vicksburg — Extraordinary Protests agsxinst tho Appoint- 
ment — The Influence of a Woman Bivught to Bear on Mr. Davis — An Infamous Imposture 
in the Command Given to Johnston — Tho President Cheats the Public Sentiment — Johnston 
Mere Figure-IIead in the West — Proofs of a Dishonorable l^ivate Correspondence of Mr. 
Davis in Derogation of Johnston's Command — The Secret Dispatch to Pemberton — Conse- 
quences of the Surrender of Vicksburg — Tlie Most Aggravated Disaster of tho War. 

IiS" midsummer of lS6o, the Army of Northern Virginia 
reached its highest point of efficiency. The Confederacy 
had enjoyed a season for recruiting; its aft'airs again wore a 
brilliant color. There was a raw bloom of new hopes spring- 
ing from the battle fields we have described in the preceding- 
chapter. Kecruits had Hocked into camps where they might 
ho|)e no longer to rust in idleness, and to waste from disease, 
but to enjoy the adventures of an active campaign, and to 
reap the glory of swift and decisive battles. The sympathy 
of the Confederate Army with the general public sentiment 
of the country was singularly delicate and exact; and it is 
remarkable that as the hopes of the people rose in the con- 
test, as victories were won, the army Avas readily replenished, 
suffered but little from desertion, and drew iii an abundaneo 
of recruits. Although the law to furnish troops was unirorm 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 289 

the s.ame in all cases, the Confederate army appeared to vary 
not only in spirit but in numbers with the fortunes of the 
contest, and was as sensitive to outside influences as any 
other congregation of people within the limits of the South. 

In the month of June, 1863, General Lee found himself at 
the head of an army ninety thousand strong ; and animated 
by the numbers and condition of his men, rather than for any 
other reason, he determined to make a second attempt to in- 
vade the territory of the enemy, and with a broader design 
than when in the preceding year, he had proposed rather to 
clear the frontiers of tlie Confederacy than to effuct a perma- 
nent occupation of Northern soil. The project of the inva- 
sion of Pennsylvania was entirely his own. It has since been 
discovered that President Davis was averse to it ; and an act 
of justice should be done in relieving him entirely from re- 
sponsibility for one broad passage of disaster in the history 
of the war. 

Tlie Pennsylvania campaign furnishes the only instance of 
displeasure that ever took place between the President and 
Geueral Lee. The troops of the latter were scarcely across 
the Potomac, when he was overtaken by a private letter from 
Mr. Davis, making a delicate, but studied protest against the 
movement of his army so far away from Richmond, and 
significantly committing to his own responsibility this second 
experiment of invasion. Worse than this, a misunderstanding 
had grown up between the- President and General Lee, of 
wliieh it is not saying too much that it materially spoiled the 
campaign, and contributed largely to the catastrophe at 
Gettysburg. General Lee had considered it of the utmost 
im[)ortance on the wide departure of his army from Richmond 
that General Beauregard should be placed in command at 
Culpepper Court House; he had thougljt that matter arranged, 



290 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

lie had relied upon it as likely to produce a considerable divis- 
ion of tlie forces of the enemy, and calculated to distract his 
attention. Mr. Davis did not fulfil this part of the campaign 
from what was evidently a misapprehension ; he supposed that 
General Lee desired an army of some magnitude to be assem- 
bled at Culpepper Court House ; and the latter was across the 
Potomac, when he received dispatches from Richmond that 
there were no forces at the disposal of the President to con- 
stitute such an army. General Lee hastened to correct the 
mistake ; he explained that he only required a semblance of 
an army at the point designated ; he argued that if nothing- 
more could be done, General Beauregard should, at least, 
make his headquarters at Culpepper Court House, and the 
fact be industriously reported in the newspapers, yet hoping 
to call off some of the overmatching forces of the enemy that 
hung on his flanks ; but before the letter, freighted with such 
hope, and designed to correct the misapprehension of Mr. 
Davis, reached Richmond, the battle of Gettysburg had been 
delivered, the army of Northern Virginia had sustained an 
irretrievable defeat, and the Pennsylvania campaign had been 
decided, in a brief span of days, memorable for their disaster 
to the South. 

It is wonderful, whatever the errors that led to the field of 
Gettysburg, and in the face of inequalities which nature exag- 
gerated, placing the army of superior numbers in a position 
almost impregnable, how near the Confederacy came to 
winning what might have been the decisive victor}^ of 
the war. The narrowness of the chance makes a dramatic 
picture — the Confederacy within a stone's throw of peace — 
nothing but the brows of brass and iron that frowned ou 
Lee's army from Cemetery Ridge to dispute its inroad into the 
heart of the Northern territor}^, nothing but a line of guns 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 291 

between it and the prizes of AVasbington, Pliilaclelpliia and 
New York! On the 3d of July, 1863, occurred a single 
hour, frauo-ht with the destinies of two countries. It was a 
crowded, sublime hour, stocked with scenes tluit make the 
history of years — when Pickett's Virginians marched on 
ground quivering under the concussion of three hundred 
cannon, and made the last effort to pluck the victory that for 
three days had trembled in the tangled brushwood of a 
mountain ridge. In vain ! With ranks torn and shattered, 
most of its officers killed or wounded, no valor able to 
surmount impossibilities, annihilation or capture inevitable, 
Pickett's division slowly, reluctantly falls back, and the day 
ends. 

The crest of Gettysburg was the knife balance of the war. 
The strained confidence, the elevated expectation at Richmond 
were cast to the ground in a single daj. Mr. Davis was 
inconsolable, and for weeks he withdrew himself from public 
observation on the plea of a nervous disorder. He had not 
only been disappointed, but he had been insulted by the 
enemy. While Vice-President Stephens was on his way to 
sound the Northern Government on the subject of peace — a 
second coquettish mission of Mr. Davis on the heels of an 
army of invasion — a battle was fought that shut the gates of 
Washington in his face, and prompted the North to return an 
insulting message to Richmond. An enemy recovered from 
the grotesque alarms that had made it humble and ridiculous 
when Lee's Army first appeared across the Potomac, was 
now quick to resume its former stature and tone of insolent 
contempt. 

At Gettysburg was committed the worst error of the 
military life of the favorite General of the South ; and, 
although the peculiar generosity of the Southern people for- 



292 LIFK OF JEFFERSON" DAA'IS, VCVni A 

gave him, and even to tliis diky, is uuwilling to tolerate 
criticism of him, history must judge him severely for his 
conduct on a field so critical/ The worst reflection of the story 
of Gettysburg on General Lee's fame, is that here, for once, 
lie has been disingenuous in his account of the field, giving 
false and trivial reasons to excuse his impulsion to a battle 
so unequal and disastrous. The fact was, General Lee shared 
too much the fault of his army in despising and underrating 
his eneni}^ ; and thus, when he had splendid opportunities in 
his hand, and when the fortunes of the South were mounting 
to the climacteric, he committed a risk, which could only 
have been pardonable in desperate circumstances, of attack- 
ins: at odds and disadvantages such as had never before 
occurred in the Avar, urging his troops against a rocky fortress 
far stronger than that against which Burnsido had so madly 
dashed his army at Fredericksburg, In the way of excuse, 
General Lee has weakly- intimated that the battle was not of 
his own choice, that it was in a measure iinavoidable, that it 
Avas"a matter of groat difficulty to withdraw through the 
mountains with his large trains." The statement is unfair, 
and is unworthy of the great commander, whose reputation 
might well have supported a free and full confession of his 
error, lie went into the fight against the protest of his Lieu- 
tenants, against his pledges at the outset of the campaign that 
he would invite the enemy's attack and not risk an aggressive 
movement, and with General Longstreet insisting that the 
road to Washington was open, and th at an attack upon Fred- 
erick, jMavyUmd, would withdraw jVleade to ground o f their 
own choosing. As to the difficulty of the Confederate trains, 
the fact was that the greater jiortion of them was still west of 
the mountains, and what of them had reached the field were 
safely withdrawn after the defeat of the Confederates, in cir- 



SECRET IIISTOliY OF TIIK CONKKDERAUY. 21)''> 

OAimstanccH move niifiivorablo, of course, l.li;ui iliosc in wliicli 
General Leo (lel)al,(ul wIkiIIu.t Ik; would deliver l):illl(\ ^riuM-o 
was not only no necessity (or the battle, hut tlu^re was even a 
broad and obvious alternative. The fact has not been eom- 
)nonly known or esteein(!d that General lice f'ou.^ht the battle 
ol' Gcttysburi^-, not only when he had full o|)])ortunitv <>!' TO- 
treat, but after he had actually ])ut the ri^-lit win-; of his 
army between Meade and Washin<,d,on. lie was pr(d)ably 
carried away by a transport of temper to attack the; eneinv on 
his front, in almost iulpre^■uaJ)l(; jiositiou; ajid in this filal 
action the historian will judge that he thiuiw a\ov the best of 
the opportunities of the war, and dated on a field blotched 
with useless carnage the decline of the fortunes of the Con 
fedcracy. 

Wo find General Loo twice failing to carry the war into 
the enemy's country — at Shari)sburg and at Gettysburg. The 
thought occurs that he was unequal in aggressive warfare, 
and suggests a concei)ti(m of his abilities as a commander 
more limited and thoughtful than the fulsome estimate of the 
poi)ulace. Probably the best opinion of General Leo is that 
he showed but little genius in oifensive campaigns, ami that 
his excellence as a commander was almost exclusively within 
the lines of defensive warfare. Jlero he was acute, i)rompt. 
resourceful; ho never lost his self possession, or the command 
of any of his fa(;ulties; he had an electric ])romptness in 
acting ill sudden and (extreme necessities; and what is proba- 
bly the most remarkable feature of his campaigns, was his 
wonderful faculty of recovery when it was suppos(^d that lu; 
had l)een pushed to the last extremity and was iniix'iidino- 
on the brink of ruin. Again and again, when the (memv 
congratulated themselves that they had given him a death- 
blow, he would astonish them by the readiness and dexterity 



294: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

of Lis resource ; and Avhen the jSTortli ^vas vocal Avitli exultant 
reports that Lee was retreating, or that his fortunes had been 
broken or lost, it would be suddenly known that he was again 
in the field with unabashed front, erect and plumed with new 
resolution. 

And so it happened in a measure after Gettysburg. The 
spirit of the Army of Northern Virginia had declined; but it 
had not been broken ; a great disaster had been suffered, but 
only the firmness of General Lee in retreat saved it from an 
irretrievable catastrophe; and wliat he preserved of the 
morale and efficienc}' of his troops even after the defeat we 
have described, was yet sufficient to check the pursuit of the 
eneni}'-, and to hold, though with feebler array than formerly, 
the old defensive lines in Virginia. 

But whatever was the amount of disaster at Gettysburg, 
and however severe was the shock which the hopes of the 
South suffered on this field, it is to be remarked peculiarly 
of this case of popular disappointment, that there Avas but 
little of recrimination mixed Avith it, but few traces of the 
bitterness of reproach. If Lee had fought unadvisedly, he had 
yet done so from a generous transport, and with such splendid 
bravery as to gild the page of disaster — to make the story of 
defeat one of tender regret and reverential memories, rather 
than one of despair and shame. It was thus that the people 
of the South accepted, and to this day maintain the memory 
of Gettysburg as of a field unhappy but adorned. In the 
calendar of the battles of the Avar, the name is yet a divided 
one for the Confederacy, mentioned perhaps as often Avith a 
noble and sorroAvful pride by the Southerner for the valor 
displayed on it, as Avitli keen regrets and tantalized reflections 
for the narroAV loss upon it of a victory that might luiv^e been 
decisive of the Avar. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 295 

Far different was the story of another disaster in another 
part of the Confederacy, the news of which reached Richmond 
the same day as that from Gettysburg ; a story replete with 
recrimination and full of bitterness and shame — one that piled 
reproaches upon the Confederate Government until popular 
indignation became fatigued with building the monument of 
infamy. This story was the surrender of Vicksbur</. It 
coupled one of the worst records of unworthiness and shame 
on the part of the government. It was a disaster that nearlv 
broke tlie heart of the Confederacy, as it did cut in twain its 
body. It was the clearest and most important complaint that 
had yet been made against President Davis ; it inflicted upon 
him an indelible disgrace ; and it is alone sufficient to deter- 
mine any doubt which may yet linger on our pages so far of 
his unworthiness in the war. 

Vicksburg was the strategic point in the Confederacy, second 
only to the capital. It was a post already adorned by four 
different successes of the Confederate arms, repulsing so manv 
attempts of the enemy to capture it. It afforded the only 
firm line of communication between the cis-Mississippi and 
the trans-Mississippi. It might have been suppo.sed that at 
a position so important, to which pointed so much of the hope 
and anxiety of the South, Mr. Davis would have appointed to 
command one of the best Generals of the Confederacy, one, 
indeed, whose reputation might have balanced that of Lee of 
Virginia, and one who might have inspired a confidence on 
the other side of the Alleghany that would have kept, to 
some extent, equal and uniform the fortunes of the war. Nor 
was such a man wanting. Public opinion in the South had 
long designated as the par nohlle fratrv.m in tlie war, Eobert 
E. Lee and Joseph E, Johnston, and had suggested the conve- 
nient decision between these two men of the two dominant 



296 LIFE OF JKFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

departments Ij'nig on eitlier side of the Allegban}-. It was 
the natural and just division between the two greatest military 
geniuses of the war. The militarv record of Johnston was 
quiet ; but it had great substantial merit, and in the estima- 
tion of the most thoughtl\il persons in the South, he was the 
superior of Lee as a safe General — -just the man to command 
in the uncertain and chequered field of the West, where, the 
fortunes of the war had hitherto been so various, and where 
prudent successes might have been the just balance of Lee's 
easier and more brilliant victories in Virginia. Xo one but 
Ish'. Davis doubted that Johnston was a commander of first- 
class ability and knowledge. Manassas, Williamsburg, and 
Seven Pines, were all his battles; and it was notable of his 
career so far, that he had never incurred a single defeat, and 
never lost an army, not even a brigade, not a regiment. 

Unfortunately Mr. Davis had an inveterate and stubborn 
dislike of Johnston. Perhaps the reader has been already 
brought to consider him as a ruler, whose p»rivate obstina- 
cies were superior to all considerations of the public interest ; 
a nervous, ill-tenipered person, making his government a fret- 
ful distribution of his personal likes and dislikes. It is said 
that he hated Johnston for no other reason than his cold arid 
sturdy manners. This commander was remarkable for his 
plain and business-like communications with the government; 
he scorned political influence ; he had no arts to conciliate 
]\[r. Davis ; in manners he Avas the severe soldier, cold and 
reticent ; he never gratified the vanity of the President by 
shows of deference, or even pleased popular passion by ful- 
some and rhetorical language about the war; and yet this 
stern, almost mute connnander, illustrating the severity of 
military manners, Ifad outlived a short term of unpopularity 
in the South, was generally esteemed the most sober and safe 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 207 

of Confederate Generals, and to-day is aceounted, even beyond 
Lee, the most careful and judicious spirit in the war. But 
although ^[r. Davis was secretly and deeply olYended with 
Johnston, although he was the victim of prejudices, he was 
now about to carry these to a point almost incredible, and 
to actually confound and bewilder popular indignation with 
his excess of favoritism. 

In all periods of the war there was a parcel of Confederate 
commanders known as " the President's Pets." The use of 
such a phrase shows how familiar was public sentiment in the 
South Avith the fact that the President was a man of preju- 
dices, and how persistent he was in asserting them. One of 
th6se pets was John C. Pemberton. He was a native of 
Pennsj^vania, and in the old Federal service had been a Cap- 
tain without distinction. He had yet fought not a single 
battle in the Confederacy ; he had not made one record of 
meritorious service therein ; he had never commanded troops 
in action, not a regiment, not a company, not a man. By a 
single stroke of the pen Mr. Davis had made this man a Lieu- 
tenant-General, giving him one of the seven great commissions 
authorized by the Confederate Congress, over the heads of 
such men as Gustavus W. Smith, D. H. Hill, A. P. Hill, the 
brilliant young Southern Generals who had really done the 
fighting of the war. He was appointed to an independent 
post, no less than that of Charleston. Thence a great outcry 
of public opinion compelled the President to remove him; 
the story got out that General Pemberton had decided that 
tliis important city was untenable ; he was accused of incom- 
petency, treachery even was hinted, and Mr. Davis had to 
recall his favorite from a command barren of any action with 
the enemy, and fruitful only of disgraceful rumors. But the 
President had that evil temper which, forced to make some 



29S LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAVIS, WITH A 

sliow of compliance to opposition, yet insults and defies it by 
making at the lirst opportunity an aggravation of the cause 
of complaint — actually defying public opinion, showing con- 
tempt for it, even taunting it by the very enlargement of the 
offeuce of which it has dared to complain. This unhappy 
temper, this mean and spiteful resentment of public opinion 
will be found running through the whole of Mr. Davis's ad- 
ministration. Pemberton was removed from Charleston, only 
to receive strident promotion. The countr}^ saw with aston- 
ishment and dismay this untried commander — a man who 
had absolutely nothing to support him but the personal atlec- 
tion of Mr. Davis — placed over the Department of Mississippi 
and Louisiana, and in the command at Vicksburg, the criti- 
cal point of the Mississippi Valley, the "Western correspon- 
dent to Richmond ! 

Ko explanations but that of sheer obstinacy, can be posvsi- 
bly afforded for this choice by Mr. Davis of a commander for 
a post the second in importance in the Confederacy. But it 
is almost unaccountable, the degree of tenacity with which he 
clung to his favorite in the midst of a storm of public indig- 
nation. Delegations visited him with protests from the peo- 
ple, and army alike ; the Legislature of his own State, Missis- 
sippi, passed resolutions complaining of the appointment. 
Outside the forms of public dissension, other agencies were 
emploved upon the President by those who understood how 
narrow were his resolutions, and how accessible he was to 
paltry and irregular intluences in conducting the public busi- 
ness. It is shameful that in a matter of so great public con- 
cern as the appointment of a General to a vital point in the 
Confederacy, the inlluencc of women and of relatives had to 
be sought to change the intentions of the President. Even 
this deo-raded access to him was not neglected. His brother 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 299 

Joseph Davis was induced to travel to Richmond, and to 
attempt to dissuade him from Pemberton, A woman in 
Jackson, Mississippi, who was reported to have an extraordi- 
nary influence over the President was won to the side of the 
]ji'otcstaiits against PemVjerton, and was prevailed upon to 
write private letters to Mr. Davis. But all protests were un- 
availing, and the President had the invariable answer that 
he had discovered in Pemberton a great military genius; that 
his choice would be soon approved by brilliant victories; that 
the country had only to wait for the tests of his judgment, 
Mr. Davis might possibly have thought that he was acting 
for the public good ; there is no bias which so easily eludes 
self-inspection, and at the same time is so patent to the world, 
as favoritism ; yet even if the President had discovered a 
military jewel in this obscure man, even if Pemberton had 
Ijeen a mute Napoleon awaiting occasion, the thought should 
have occurred to Mr. Davis that the confidence of soldiers 
is an essential element in the success of a General, and that 
as long as his favorite lacked this he was not the man to 
command the second army of the Confederacy. It is a maxim 
in the science of military command that no matter what the 
cause of distrust of troops, the distrust itself is sufficient to 
disqualify the General for his position. And Pemberton's 
soldiers distrusted him from the moment he took command, 
to the time he marched them out to the field of surrender. 

If Mr. Davis had strictly and literally adhered to the ap- 
pointment of Pemberton to command Vicksburg, there 
would at least have been honesty in this conduct. But un- 
fortunately the President had a curious way of double-dealing 
with public sentiment ; he had a habit, when strongly urged, 
of making a show of compliance with it, yet cheating it, sub- 
stantially. No stronger example can be given of this de- 



300 LIFK OF JKKKKKSOX DAVIS, WH'IV A 

tosrablo oluwt of the sontiinoiU of the pooj^lo, tlii.^ imwortliy 
subtoi-rugv of the rivsiclont, than at'ior iho translauon o( 
Pemberton to Vicksburg. the appointment of General Johnston 
to tlio visiWe nominal eommanJ of the Western department, 
and vet without any prai'tieal power to eonduet a eam]>aign 
thoroin, or to eontrol the armies within the limits ol' his 
military Jurisdietion. The appvnntment was made to appease 
popular elamor; and to eover the President's unworthy alVee- 
tion for Pemberton. Johnston was too u'enerons to expose 
the u'ame on pnblie opinion to whieh he was made an instru- 
ment ; but at last under the pressure of reerimination alter 
the tall of Yieksburg. the details ean>e out stark and dis- 
g-raeel'ul. and they eompose a story o[' dishonor tor Mr. 
Pavis, the like ot' whieh is seareely to be louud in all the 
crooked and sunken paths of his administration. 

General Johnston was appointed to eommand in the West 
■with seareely any other powers than those o( an Inspeetor- 
Cieneral. His appointn\eut was a missiou. not a military 
command. When it had at llrst been spoken of, he had a 
private eonversation in llie War Olliee in whieh he strv>i\>;ly 
urged that the entire Mississipju Valley shoidd he one 
department, under one eommand ; that, the river did nor 
aiVeet its unity : and that the measures for its detenee ought 
to oomin-ehend the whole valley and both sides of the river. 
These views were overruled bv Mr. Pavis, even after tlie 
Seeretary of war (^Mr. Ivandolph) had assented to them. There 
was another ''pet." ol' the President on the other side oi' the 
!N[ississippi, who was kopt in eommand in .\rkaiisas, despite 
the pravers of the State and the irrepressible eomplaints of 
the armv. "H," said a joiirual o[' these times. " (ivMter;d 
llohnes be not in his dotage, the Knglish language jiossesses 
no svnouvm to inJieate his stujudity aiul inertia." PemUer- 



SKA'KK/r IIISI'OUV ()!•' 'I'llK I'ON l''KI)KliA(' V. 30i 



1.M1, Ml-. I>;i,vis's |)rolc!!,(i No. 2, vvns ;ii Viokshiir^', luul oom- 
ni:iiuU'il llu^ |)t>|);n'l,iiu'iit. of Mississippi :iii(l Ijoiiisiiiim.. 
l>r;ij;\u,', ;iii<)l her "per," who, :it. llio ln-ii^iiiniii;;- of l.lio y*';''". Ii''itl 
lclc!>r;iplu'il IVom the lioM ol' M uriVci.'shoro', "(iod li;is !!,'i veil 
us :i li;ipp\' new yc'ir," \v;i,s iimvisily rt'slinj',' id 'riill;ilioin;i. 
Tims (u'iu'ImI Joliiistoii \v:is misphiccd amoii;;' Uni " pris " of 
|Ju> riTsidi'iil.. \\c. \v;i-s iiomiiinlly I^Ik' siipi-rior ollirci' of 
M;uir\' ;il Moltilc, ol' l'>i';i; ■■'.;■ :it. 'riill:i,lioiii;i, :uul ol rniilinloii 
;il, \' ickshiir;-' ; l)iil. liis n':il coiili-ol \v;is ii:iii":lil.. lIccoiiM 
iiol, w'illMlraw tJit^ armies from lln- points iJicy ticrciK KmI ; lio 
colli, I oiilv iTiiilorcc one of iJimii l)y ilclaclmicnis IVom 
aiiolluT. 'riiov \Vi'i-(^ comma.mK'ij liy iJic icspcciiN'o ( imifrals 
placet! o\'cr llu-m l)V rresidciil, Da.vis; ajul il is rcmarkaJdo 
l.hal. caeli ol' I.Iumu rcpoilcij iJicir aclioiis, iiol Uii'oii!';h (iciicral 
.loliiistoii. Uiil directly lo KMelimond. I>ciii;;' I'lvorilcs lo 
whom the I'rcsideiit, was paiiial, they could, each, disoliey 
,lolmslou's oi'dtu's wil.h iuipunily. 'I'lie laMcr could uol, Wo 
ul)i([uilous. ir he left. (ieiieraJ T'IM^'.^' I"' himsell', liluuders 
\venMmuie(liaJ.ely commiU-ed ; if Im Icl'l, (lcui'i-;d r.-mlierlou 
wilh (U'liei's to colleci provisions and .aumiuuilioii, a-ud spetl. 
1,0 TullaJiom;!, \' icksWur''- mi;..dil, he starved out.; il' he veu- 
iJired l()\\'a,i-ds Mobile t-o e.\a-miu(^ its (hileiices, he uucoveretl 

llic la,i';'vr part, of his militaj'y district, and lell t,o 1 iiu.al 

suhordin.ales Llie lairesl, and most importaait, portion of l.lio 
Conlederac\'. 

This disa,rra,n;j;enient of inilil.a,ry commands in tJa; West, 
this coid'usion of authorities, it is now known, was calculatetl 
1)\' rresident Davis to shield his a,pp<'intment of IVunherton, 
and to liiile a, surreptitious and underhaJided coiu'espoudenec 
whii'h he conducted with him in (hu'oj'a-tion ot the views ol 
.hilinston and in diminut ion ol' his e-onuuand. \V heii the latter 
arrived at his post in the West, he .sa.w a,t once the' (anpti- 



302 LIFE OF JKFFERSON" DAVIS, WITH A 

ness of his commaud. He ^vrote to a private friend in 
Eichmond: — "I have no hope that Pemberton will regard a 
suggestion of mine." The anticipation was abundantly ful- 
filled. At the conclusion of the campaign on the fall of 
Yicksburg, General Johnston was constrained to write in his 
official report : — " General Pemberton made not a single 
movement in obedience to my orders, and regarded none of 
my instructions ; and finally did not embrace the only oppor- 
tunity to save his army — that given by my order to abandon 
Yicksburg." 

The series of the acts of disobedience on the part of Pem- 
berton was persistent and high-handed. When Grant crossed 
the river and invaded the State of Mississippi to make a 
detour upon Yicksburg, the constant idea of Johnston, his 
incessant order was that Pemberton should unite with him 
and fight for Yicksburg in the open field ; that they should 
manoeuvre to prevent a siege, that if such was once effected 
by the enemy the loss of the city would become onlv a 
question of time, with the Federal army in a position to re- 
ceive reinforcements from all parts of the North, and with no 
Confederate force outside the town sufficient to break its 
rear. This was his plain, dominant idea of the campaign. 
It might have given a great victory to the Confederacy ; it 
proposed the easy and obvious occasion of Grant brought to 
a great battle in the interior of Mississippi, where the united 
forces of Johnston and Pemberton could have matched his 
numbers, and where, if defeated, he would have no opportu- 
nity of retreat. It was a splendid chance. But Pemberton 
appears to have been afflicted with the morbid idea that 
Yicksburg was his base — from what inspiration we shall 
presently see ; from first to last his chief anxiety seems to 
have been to avoid a junction with Johnston, and to keep a 



SKCKKT IIISTOUY OF THE COXFKDERACY. 303 

distance between tliem ; and every order of tlie latter lie dis- 
obeyed with a sanii froid and insolent seir-eoni|)lacency unex- 
ampled ill tlie relations of a coinmaiiding General and his 
subordinate, and inexplicable, unless on the supposition of 
some hidden assurance to support him. 

When Grant first crossed the Mississippi, General John- 
ston telcf^raphed to [*eiiil)erton : " Unite all your troops to 
beat him; success will give back what was abandoned to win 
it." The response of Pemberton was the feeble adventure of 
a single division of 5,500 troops thrown upon the enemy's 
front at I'ort Gibson, and a disastrous battle tliere. The con- 
sequence of his vacillation and of his mere color of resistance 
on the river was that the town of Jackson was lost, and the 
way opened to Vieksburg. But again Johnston saw the 
chance of concentration, and the prospect of a great victory. 
No sooner had the enemy left Jackson, four of his divisions 
under Sherman deflected towards the west, than General 
Johnston hurried a dispatch to Pemberton on the night of the 
loth of May, urging the importance of establishing communi- 
cations, and ordering him to come ui)on Sherman's rear at 
once, and adding, "to beat such a detachment would be of 
immense value." "The troops here," wrote Johnston, speak- 
ing of his own command, "could co-operate. All the strength 
you can quickly assemble should be brought. Time is all 
important." The reply of Pemberton was again feeble ; he 
could not cut loose from Vieksburg ; that had been committed 
to him as the chief object of President Davis's solicitude; and 
the dull and shallow commander could not understand the 
advantage of fighting for a point at a distance from it, in pre- 
ference to the puerile conceit of fighting on the immediate 
front of it. He preferred to be besieged, for a reason that at 
the time was locked in his breast. A few hours after John- 



30i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

ston's dispatoli reached him, be was fighting the enemy on 
the immedivate approaches to Vicksburg ; and at the close of 
the next day, he was retreating with a shattered and demora- 
lized army into the town, tailing into the fatal trap of which 
Johnston had forewarned him. " Had the battle of Baker's 
Creek not been fought," Avrote this commander, " Pemberton's 
belief that Yicksbnrg was his base rendered his ruin inevita- 
ble. He would still have been besieged and therefore captured. 
The larger force he would have carried into the lines would 
have added to and hastened this catastrophe. His disasters 
were due, not merely to his entangling himself with the 
advancing columns of a superior and unobserved enemy, but 
to his evident determination to be besieged in Yicksburg, 
instead of manceuvering to prevent a siege." 

But why should General Pemberton thus have persevered 
against the orders of his superior; why allow himself to be 
shut up in Yieksbu]-g with the determination to be besieged? 
It was very strange conduct, even on an excessive hypothesis 

t of military incompetency. The fact tvas that he bore on his 
person — even from the shameful field of Baker^s Creek, the secret 
advices of President Davis in 02:>positio7i to the orders of General 
Johnston/ From that Held, where the shame of Bull Pun 
was nearly revei'sed U[>on the South — he carried an armv 

vback into the streets of Vicksburg a profane, howling mob. 
It was a scene of disorder, of cowardice, of despair. '* I was 
surprised," said an ollioer who rode near General Pemberton 
when lie re-entered Yicksburg, "to notice his self compla- 
cency, and to see how little he was disturbed by what to us 
was a Avoful retreat." But Pemberton had secret sources of 
consolation; he had lost a battle, he had disobeyed Johnston, 
he had defied his displeasure ; but he knew very well that in 
betaking himself to a siege in Yicksburg, he was fuUllling 



SECllKT HISTORY OK TIIK CONKKDKItAOY. 305 

the views of Mr. Dnvis at liiclunoiul, as (,;uiiiiiiiiiii(ial(!(l Uj liim 
in private telegrams, and that lie laiglit (;alciilal(j ou tliu su[)- 
port of the President in all be had done. 

There; has I'ucently came to light, a secret dispatch that 
cui-i(jiisly sup[)h!ments the story of Vieksburg. On the 7th 
of May, 1803, the very day on wliich General Johnston was 
writing IVom Tullahoma, hy a remarkable intuition, that he 
had " no hope that (uMieral I'ciinberton would regard a sug- 
gestion" from him, President Davis telegraphed General 
Pernbertou in these words: — "Want of transportation of 
supplies must compel the enemy to seek a junction with their 
fleet after a 'icw days' absence IVom it. ^I^o hold Ijoth Vieks- 
burg and J*oi't Hudson is necessary to a connection with 
trans-Mississi[)[)i. You may expect whatever it is in niy 
power to do." This order had doubtless been given to 
General Pemberton Ibi- the purpose of superseding that vvlii(;h 
General Johnston had sent him six days before, from Tulhi- 
homa, directing him " to concentrate and attacic Grant im- 
mediately ;" of which General Johnston had advised the War 
De[)artinent. 

Here was a command superior to that of General Johnston, 
which. General Pembei'ton was obliged to obey. lie did so, 
in the spirit and in the letter. Whatever may have Vjcen 
the blunders that his inexpei-ienee in the held might have led 
him to commit, it cannot be said that he I'ailed in fidelity to 
his trust; or that his disobedience to the orders of his im- 
mediate superior was not excused by the order which had 
come to him from the su[)erioi" of both. 

There was long an unpleasant suspicion in the Con- 
federacy that President Davis had a secret and underhanded 
correspondence in the goverrnnent of military campaigns, 
conducting such with subordinate commanders, and thus 
20 



30(3 LIFE OF JKFFEKSOX DAVIS. WITH A 

displacing or diminishing the antliority ol" the oonnnander-in- 
obief. whom he had nominally appointed. Wo shall see 
other remarkable instances of this disreputable intorlevence 
with the conduct of armies in the tiold. But in the present 
case the proof is in black anvi white, that Pemberton was the 
creature of Mr. Pavis ; that he was receivino- secret instrue- 
tions from him when all orders to the latter should have 
passed through General Johnston ; and the suggestion occurs 
that even the violation of this usual and respectful form, 
must have involved a sinister purpose, and a dishonorable 
confidence, if not a positive conspiracy against the authority 
of General Johnston. The latter was placed in the lield to 
bear the responsibility of a campaign which he never ordered, 
and the secret history of which remained at Eichmoud, to be 
disclosed or to be retained, according as the result might 
make to the credit or discredit of the military genius of Mr. 
Davis. 

AVhen Pembertou had once retired to A'icksbui-g. Johnston 
saw well tliat the fate of that town was deternniK\l, uiul he had 
nothing more to beseech than that the army should bo saved 
by a speedy evacuation. Pemberton replied : "1 have decided 
to hold Yicksburg as long as possible. * * '^ I still conceive 
it to be the most important point in the Confedevao\-." Once 
besieged by an enemy whose comijumications were all open, 
without prospect of relief from the insulhcent ariliy of Johnston, 
without hope of reinlbrcemcut from other burdened parts of 
the Confederacy, time was soon called upon A'ieksbnvg; 
aiid on the -ith of July, 1863, the South sullered the most 
ae;Q;ravated disaster of the war. Pemberton had surrendered 
to the enemy a force of more than twenty-three thousand 
men. with three Major-Generals, and nine Brigadiers; up- 
wards of ninety pieces oi' artillery, and about forty thousand 



8KCKKT HISTORY OF THK CONFEDERACY. H<)7 

small arma, large numberH of the latter having hcen taken 
from the enerny during the Hi'egc * These, however, were 
only the immediate and visible los-ie.s of a day. There were 
great results, «ueh as had not yet been weighed on a single 
field of the war. The fall of Vieksbiirg was the decisive 
event of the Mississippi Valley ; the virtual surrender of the 
great river; and the severance of the Southern Confederacy, 
^i'he natural eon sequences were numerous and mournful: — 
tlie attack on and defence of Jackson, and withdrawal of 
Johnston to Meridian; the brilliant but fruitless battle of 
(jhickamauga; the misfortune of Missionary Ridge; the 
reinforcement and transfVjr of Sherman to JJahon; the Con- 
federate retreat into Georgia; the fall of Atlanta; the deso- 
lation of Georgia, and the Carolinas ; the surrender at Chapel 
Hill ; finally a lost Confederacy. 

* General Grant in his official report claims thirty-seven thousand 
priHoricrs, but ai»[jearH to speak of the renults of the campaign, rather 
than of the immediate fruits of the surrender. 



308 T.IFK OF .IKFFKKSOX KAVIS. WITU A 



CllAPTEK XIX. 

\ Ptuiso ill the Jlilitavy llistoiy of the Coiilodoraoy, iuul a Viow thorounon of its Iiilonia\ Mi- 
niiiiistialiou — Uoforonco to tho Cotifodorato Cougross — Its Sooi'ot Sos!<io»s — Tho " CoUogo Oo- 
buling Society"' in tlio Capitol— SomiMif tho NotiiWo Momhors of Congress — DisgraoofulSoenoo 
iu Secret Session — .\u KpisoUe of tlie Howie-Knife — Judge Dui'gsvn a Curi>vsity — A U:uni-li>- 
Ilaiul Fight in tlie Senate— Other Scandals iu Congress — Tho Newspapers and "Conlrahand 
Information" — Jlr. Pavis and his "Hack-floor" Conferences — An Ill-natured UemarU al)OHt 
General Ueaurcgard — Had Uesnlls of tlio Secret Sessions of Confederate Cougrws — I\luHilud« 
of Uumors in tho South — Cominenl.s of tho Kichmond Kramiiifr and the Charlestoii MftrKri; 
— Newsmongers in Kichmond— 'I'wo Notable Characters in the Capital — " Iiong Tom" and tho 
Druggist — Ueflections on the Hirth and Flight of Kuniors concerning tho War— How Mr. 
Davis's Pastor was Deceived — An Anecdote of " Kocogiiition " — The llemoral lining Cousoipieiicios 
of False Uumors in tho Wai' — Tlio Heart of the South Worn Out, Swinging tVom Hope to Foftr 
— How Mr. Davis's VTncaged Uumoi-s — Itow he Dulled and Destroyed I'uMic Spirit. 

The disasters of Gettysburg and Yioksburg naturally give 
n pause for some reflections on the war. V'roin these cuitward 
events we propose to U-mk in upon the iiitern;il ailministration 
of Mr. Davis, and to describe something <>f oHicial persons aiul 
manners in the Confederate capital. 

IMi is view first presents us the Oongres;^, the last nppearanee 
of which on our pages was in its ignominious flight from 
McClellan's army. It had reassembled a few months after 
that army had been scattered. It entered thereafter upon a 
prolonged term of existence; the brief history of which is 
that of dreary servitude to "Mr. Pavis, broken only by inter- 
vals o[^ weak and spasmodic protest. 

1^'or a louiT time the existence of this legislative Inxlv was 

almost unnoticed, except for some occasional foolish and ein- 

}iiric;d measure, with wliieh it startled the public. It tr;viis 

( acted all iun>ortaut business in secret session. It was a vio- 



HKCUKT IIIHTORV OK 'I'HK CONKIOUKIIACV. .309 

lent, ;in'(;';t,'i.t,iori of Ui'! oomcjuUj'I liabitH of a doHpoti.srn, unrl tin 
insolent, wilJidr.'ivv.'il froiri j)n}>li(; rioiicr; jn'OHcntcd to tlic world 
the, fir.sl/ oxjunpic, oC;i, piil^Ii'-, })orry which cl aimed to represent 
\}\(', ))eople of a, cowuiry, and to be aetiri;^ }>y their authority 
and in their l)ehal(', sitliri^; witli elo.sed doorn, and witlilioldin^ 
all i(M irnpo tant tran,sar;tion;-i from tlieir knowlefl^^e. Such an 
exhibition illtiHtruteH that curiouH mixture in tlio Soutli<;rn 
Confederacy, wliich made it Huch a strange and anomalouH 
f^overnment; liolding out to tlie world republican forms and 
yet ))ractiHing in many tliingn the recluHcnesH and iHolation 
and arrogance of the wfjfHt deMpoti«m, 

Ofjca.sionally there would isHue from the.se veiled myntcrieH 
of legislation the most iin expected and astounding measures, , 
some of them expressing the most puerile conceits, and dis- ' 
arming criticiHm by tlie very excess of theii- absurdity. Nor 
was this scci-et legislatic^n always witliout corrupt advant.'ige 
to mcmberH. An instance was commonly related in Rich- , 
mori'l, on an r>r;casion where a law had been passed in secret ' 
to have future effc'ct to repudiate partially Confederate notes 
above the denominati(m of five dollars, of a distinguished 
Senator buying up the small currency in every broker's shop 
in the capital, and making his millions by the o|>eration. IJiit 
su';]i cornipiion was only a day's gossif). 'V\\ii Cordc'lerato 
Congress had long eeascfl t(; maintain anything of public re- 
spect. Its secret sessions were regarded ordy with slighting or 
suspicious interest ; and when it did indulge in public some 
slight discussion, tho.se who happened to attend the exhibition 
confessed themselves stricken with siiame, and repeated the 
common bit of sarcasm in I'i'ihmond oi' " ihecollc'e debatiu"- 

O o 

society " on (Jafjiiol Jlil). 

The appearance of the Congress was singularly plain and 
unimposing. It was mostly composed of men wlio were as 



310 LIFE OF JEFFERSON' DAVIS, WITH A 

ordinary in appearance as they wore dull in mind. Its sur- 
roundings Avere excessively democratic, dinjv. and dirty, and 
the poverty of the Confederacy scarcely afforded those con- 
veniences and accessories, if not luxuries, which one is accus- 
tomed to see in the halls of our legislation. The Congress sat 
in the '' State House." and such was the want of convenient 
room, that the Senate was forced to occupy a room in the 
third story, separated by a simple railing from the audience ; 
the only apparent distinction between it and the rough crowd 
(for there was no accommodation for ladies^ being that the 
Senators sat, while the listeners and loafers, having not 
even benches, were satisfied to find slanding-room on the same 
floor, with the slight separation we have described. The 
House had a better chamber ; but the bare wnlls, where there 
were no paintings, the nncushioned chairs, the dingy desks 
slashed with pocket-knives, and the attitudes of members, Avith 
their heels in air, or their bodies sprawled over two or three 
chairs, gave one but little idea of legislative dignity or de- 
corum. 

There were not more than a dozen men in both Houses 
who were before known to the countrj^, or had enjoyed \ 
a reputation a hundred miles from home. There were 
Congressmen from districts overrun by the enemy, who had v 
been elected by a few dozens of soldiers' votes cast in camp. 
It was absurd to find Senators and Representatives from Mis- 
souri. Arkansas, Louisiana, etc., holding their seats by virtue 
of a handful of votes cast by soldiers from their respective 
States in the camps of the Army of Northern Virginia. 
Among these unworthy members of Congress were some 
ridiculous figures, and not a few rustic curiosities who sug- 
gested the backwoods and the sedge-fields. The men who 
relieved something of the rude and ludicrous aspect of the 



SECRET IIISTOIIY OF THE CONFEDEJIACY. 311 

body had generally served before in the old Congress at 
Waslihigton; but it was often remarked that even these ap- 
peared to liiive lost tlioir forinor for(;e and dignity, and to j 
have been belittled by tlio eornpany in which they were mis- 
placed. There were of remarkable members in the House, 
Mr. Foote, who spoke classical English, and dealt historical 
ill lustrations to the una[)prcciating homespun members, a 
voluble debater, but afflicted with extravagance and a colicky 
delivery; William Porcher Miles, of South Carolina, smootli, 
gentlemanly, scrupulously dressed, a master of deportment, 
and a typo, indeed, of the truest cultivation, deprecating any- 
thing like violence in speech or manner; Barksdale, of Mis- 
sissippi, the especial friend and champion of Mr. Davis, the 
leader of the Administration party in the House, a small, 
dark-featui'cd man, who spoke so vehemently as sometimes to 
overrun the rules of grammar, but really forcible, dealing 
rude blows with facts and solid arguments ; James Lyons, of 
Virginia, who was satisfied with the shallow reputation of 
"tlie handsome member," and who possessed little brains, 
showed very excellent large white teeth, and stood six feet 
three in his stockings, the elevated "Turveydrop" of the 
House. In the Senate were Yancey, of Alabama, the silver- 
tongued orator of the South, speaking a subdued but luxu- 
riant language, quite unlike that of the American hustings, 
Wigfall, of Texas, fierce, impatient, incandescent, illustrating 
another school of eloquence ; Orr, of South Carolina, an ex 
cellent man in the eotnrnittee-i'oom, Ijut as heavy and blun- 
dering as a school-l')oy in his speeches; and Hill, of Georgia, 
the very picture of a smooth and plausible mediocrity, liaving 
much of address and of gentlemanly equivocations, inclining 
to the administration of the President, but at an angle nice 
and variable in its degrees. 



L 



312 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

111 a body chiefly composed of nucultivatcd men — to which 
have been mentioned as exceptions, more or less partial, the 
names above — there might naturally be expected some 
breaches of decorum and some scenes of personal violence. 
Indeed, several most extraordinary scenes of this sort occurred 
in the Confederate Congress, which were either suppressed 
in the newspapers, or were but meagerly and tenderly men- 
tioned in their columns. An occurrence at a certain time, 
by which the whole House of Representatives was thrown 
into a panic and into the most disgraceful disorder, was so 
carefLilly suppressed, that but few people in Tiichmond ever 
obtained any knowledge of it, or ever suspected that a scene 
of bloodshed was about to be enacted behind the convenient 
curtains of a secret legislative session. 

IMie immediate parties to the disgraceful occurrence (which 
happened in the summer of 1863) were Mr. Foote, of Tennes- 
see, and Judge Dargan, of Alabama, the latter an old man 
whose eccentric dress and whose soliloquies on the street were 
well known in Richmond, and Avliose habit in Congress of 
scratching his arms and saying "Mr. Cheer-man," had often 
brought him under the notice of the galleries. Some words 
of defiance had passed between the two members. While 
Judge Dargan was speaking, Mr, Foote sat near him, and 
muttered that he was a "d — d rascal." The member from 
Alabama immediately drew a bowie-knife, brandislied it in 
the gas-light (it was a night session), amid the shouts and 
cries of the House, and made for the member from Tennessee. 
For a moment all was consternation, and members rushed to 
the scene of encounter. Several of them literally threw them- 
selves u})on Judge Dargan, and wrested from his grasp the 
murderous weapon ; when, just at this moment, Dargan hav- 
ing been pinned to the floor, the whole scene was converted 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDEllAC V. 813 

into one irresistibly ludicrous, shouts of laughter succeeding 
those of passion, as Mr. Foote, striking an attitude and smit- 
ing his expanded breast, exclaimed with peculiar melodra- 
matic air, "I defy tlio steel of the assassin !" 

Another memorable scene of personal violence was in the 
Senate, and was more tragical in its results. In a secret ses- \ 
sion of that body there occurred a hand-to-hand fight between / 
Mr. Yancey and Mr. Hill, in whicli the latter, being greatly 
superior in strength, threw his antagonist across a desk, and 
bent him over it, continuing to strike him in the face. The 
consequence was a wrenching and severe injury to Mr. Yan- 
cey's spine. It was rumored that it caused his death a few 
months later ; but there is at least no doubt that it hastened 
the decline of a constitution already feeble by years and 
disease. 

There were other scenes of indecorum in the Congress, of 
which we may spare details, in one of which a member was 
flogged with a cowhide in his seat for some indignity or as- 
persion in social life. Half an hour after this dramatic dis- 
play took place, messages were flying to all' the newspapers in 
Kichmond asking that their reporters should make no men- 
tion of it, putting the request on the ground that the publi- 
cation would degrade the character of the Confederacy, and 
might be construed as "givlnr/ information to the enemy T ^ 
There is no intention of satire or extravagance in stating this 
explanation of "contraband" matter; it was actually given 
by sapient Congressmen, and accepted by complaisant journal- 
ists. The newspapers were generally taught an obligation 
to put all Confederate affairs in roseate color, and to dress 
them up in the stiftest garments of dignity. To relate any- 
thing prejudicial to the Confederacy, to mention even a derog 
atory social incident, was to incur in tlie minds of certain 



314: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

vain and paltry, but numerous persons in the South, the 
charge of publishing "contraband" matter, or of at least lack- 
ing in proofs of Southern patriotism. It was thus, to an ex- 
tent, that the reader of this day can scarcely believe that 
public opinion in the Southern Confederacy was disarmed, 
and a wretched Congress passed almost unchallenged and un- 
noticed through a histor}^ of vile excesses and flagitious 
scenes. 

A notable and not the least disgraceful incident of the 
secluded character of Congress was the shape of the inter- 
course between President Davis and it in the later ])criods of 
the war. It became a singularly devious intercourse, in 
which delegations composed of live or six Congressman would 
visit the President in a private way, and make remonstrances 
and protests to him on special subjects. The public was 
generally kept in ignorance of these back-door communica- 
tions; it was a private sort of interlocution and catechism 
dishonorable to both parties, and the incidents of which 
would scarcely bear publication. 

On one occasion Mr. Foote, with two or three other Con- 
gressmen, visited the President, to make some remonstrance 
about the militar}^ commands in the AYest, and abruptly re- 
tired from the room without finishing their mission, on the 
allegation of Mr. Foote that Mr. Davis had spies posted in or 
near the room to catch and retail the conversation ' 

On another occasion a Congressional delegation called on 
Mr. Davis to entreat his restoration of General Beauregard to 
the command of the army of Tennessee, representing that he 
had quitted it on a short sick furlough, not supposing that the 
advantage would be meanly taken of construing hiS' furlough 
into a resignation, and forcing him into retirement. The 
President replied, in measured and memorable words : " If 



SKCKET HLSTOIIY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 315 

the whole world were to ask me to restore General Beaure- 
gard to the command which I have already given to General 
Bragg, I Avould refuse it." 

The veiled government of the Southern Confederacy not 
only interrupted popular sympathy with it, but it created 
tlie most various evils. Making itself constantly the object 
of mystery it was likely soon to render itself the object of 
suspicion. It injured the patriotism and confidence of the 
]:)eople of the South in many more ways than that of shelter- 
ing itself from proper official responsibility. 

And here we arc called to regard a most curious subject 
in the history of the war — the number and volume of false 
rumors that circulated in it. To search the origin of these 
rumors, to describe their flight, to inquire how the falsehoods 
were fledged, and to trace tlicir effects on the spirit and con- 
duct of the belligerents, would constitute, we believe, a chapter 
of entertaining and even valuable speculation. Although 
the two powers at war wore coterminous, and although there 
were varied and multiplied communications between the 
lines of military operations, it is wonderful to notice the 
multitude and prevalence of false rumors which obscured the 
true history of the war, aiid tantalized, provoked, and indeed, 
seriously embarrassed the combatants. The prevalence of 
these rumors was peculiar in the South. The comparative 
multitude of them was due not only to the characteristically 
lively disposition of the people, but to a special and excep- 
tional cause. That cause was the affected mystery with 
which Mr. Davis imitated some of the worst examples of 
government, and in the mists of which he was anxious to 
enlarge his own figure to most undue proportions. 

We have noticed, as a i-emarkable anomaly of the Con- 
federate Government, the secrecy with which it invested its 



316 LIFE OF JKFFKUSOX DAVIS. WITH A 

oporatious, uot only iuoluding the oonduot of the military 
field but extended to the aduuuistrarion of every public 
interest and concern. Here was a government professing 
to be one of the people civated under the inspiration of an 
extreme republieauism, and yet preaching all the insolation, 
exclusiveness and mystery of an oriental despotism. This 
rule of secrecy was lirst commenced on the }>retence. just 
enough to a certain extent, to exclude the enemy from in- 
formation of Confederate affairs ; but this pretence was 
capable of a very indelinite extension, and the authorities of 
Richmond carried it to the most puerile and trivial lengths. 
It was not only to condemn information generally esteemed 
contraband in a state of war. but to silence the discussion of 
ahnost every public topic by an absurd stretch of the plea 
that it might injure or disparage the Confederacy abroad. 
Criticism was uot to be tolerated of A[r. Davis's administra- 
tion, not because it might indicate it5 faults to the people of 
the South, but because it would exhibit its Aveakness to the 
enemy and improve his contulcncc. This absurd and un- 
worthy argument was carried in the South to extravagances 
which will scarcely now be believed. The governnumt was 
shrouded with a close and imposing mystery ; the sessions 
of Congress even in debate of tlie commonest civil n\attcr. 
were habitually secret ; and the press was silenced more 
elYectually than by the worst gag law of a despotism. 
Nearly every article of criticism in the newspa[KU"s might by 
an artful or violent construction be construed as giving in- 
formation to the enemy, and might be condemned as un- 
patriotic, if not contraband, under the rule tliat no evil was 
to be spoken of the Confederacy, and all its alVairs were to 
be written of in color of the rose. 

The effect of this rule upon the newspapers was to silence 



SIOCKKT IllS'l'OliV ol'' 'rilli; CONI'MOIHOKACY. 317 

lilt- |)li;utl ;iiiil |i> (•iiil);ii'i';iss tin' lioKlrsI ol' llicm. Olid o{' 
thrill li;ul spirir iMioiiv.li lliiis lo fominciil, iinil iwpliiiii : 
" Nations will siillrr just. |)iinislimiMit. \vIh'ih>\i-i- llicy intrust 
])o\VtM' lo |Min\' liaiuls, |nill' np llu' coiiccil. ami ('ii('oura!j;0 
the passions of llu'ir imiKm's hy I'mIsouk" llatlcry or silfiit. snl)- 
inission. \Vc lia,V(> tjonc so. 'Tlic lollies of llio i^'ovi'i'iinn'iit 
arc manircst. to all, ImiI, if any one who pays t ln^r coj;!. pro 
posrs opposition, or r\c\\ a, rcinonsta'ancc, t In" ainial)lo maiority 
I'.ry, 'llnshloh, hnsli, hush! we cairt 'j;rl rid of him; and 
]\c will Ao thus and so, all the \\\ovc. if ho is opposed. Don't 
sa\' ainthinL;-. We nmst have eoncoi-d niianiiiiit y-- and 
there must be no i)pposlt ion |,o ';-overninent .' Therelbre. tlio 
only X'oiee wdiieli is he^ird at all is th'- \oie.e ol' liatti'rcrs — 
the \oiee ol' those who lia.\e neither liea.d iior heart, lieithor 
knowieili;'e. nor prineipliv I lenee the l<l\eeaiti va^ is eneonragod 
to pursue its I'aneies ; and ;dl hoiiedi every iiiilitai-y mislbr- 
tnne iA' the eountr\' is |>al|ial)ly and eonfi\ssedly iliie to tlui 
jiorsoual interreiHMiee ol' Mr. Da^is, iho Oon^L-rrss coiiljuuca 
at en.eli sossiiMi to hi> liis suhsiM'\ienl. tool and to t'urnisli now 
ineentives to perversity, new means of miseliitd." 

'r\\K'- consequeiiees o\' this secroey with which tlie Waeli- 
niond (u)vormueiit iiiV(>stcMl jtsell' were various, and, with 
rcspee.t to tlie res|)onsil)ilit y of its nii(>rs, were unjust, 
despotic, and ruinous. in a reecnt. reministHMiee of the ( 'on- 
rodei'a,cy, tho Charleston Mcrrury tlius writes in a. style of 
just liisti)ri(!al review: "^Idiere ne\er was any pt-ople so com- 
pletely kept, in the dark, as the peojde of th(> (lovernmeiit ol" 
the C'oiil'edoralr States were under Mr. Davis';; a.ilministni- 
tion. His I'riiMids soon came to the conclusion, both in tlio 
.l*royisional and tho Regular Congresses of the Contbdomto 
States, that tlu> K-ss the pc^ople knew ol' theii' TresidiMit tlio 
better, 'idiererore, the doors o\' Conoross were closed to 



318 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

publicity ; and almost everytliing that was said or done in 
Congress was said and done in secret session. It was made 
a standing rule of the Provisional Congress, aud of the Eegular 
Congress we believe also, that the Congress was opened by 
prayer, and soon after went into secret session. From its 
impenetrable silence, not a voice of remonstrance or of oppo- 
sition could be heard. To disclose anything which took 
place in secret session, was punishable by expulsion. The 
Government was thus practically, totally irresponsible to the 
people. Whatever they knew of their government, was by 
the special favor of those who originally concealed it. The 
Confederate Congress thus was made to appear to bo a caput 
mortuum. Although speeches were delivered, and measures 
proposed in it, which would have commanded the deepest 
interest with the people, the only thing the people heard or 
saw, was Jefferson Davis — and of course Jefferson Davis, in 
the most imposing and advantageous attitudes. This irre- 
sponsibility, stimulated a thousand improprieties and lent 
countenance to grave and fatal follies both of omission and 
commission, which the press forebore to publish." 

But our particular design here is to treat this extraordinary 
secrecy of the Confederate Government in a new light, ahd to 
portray a train of curious consequences. It was to populate 
the air of the South so thick with rumors that one could 
scarcely breathe in it, except at exclamation points. Each 
day, often each hour, had its rumors, and the country was de- 
livered to the worse than Egyptian plague of these flying pests. 
The public heart was eat out by rumors. The Southern news- 
papers of these times, from their forced reticence, give no idea 
of the extent of this plague. When the doors of official in- 
formation were closed to all enquirers, any one might presume 
to be the herald of secret intelligence, and the most foolish 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 319 

story, at any time of tlic clay or night, might collect an au- 
dience. 

In Kiclimond there was no end of " confidence men," pre- 
tenders, gossipers ; and any man who sought a brief hour of 
self-importance had only to profess that he had been admitted 
to a back-door confidence with some General, Secretary, or 
even Department clerK. The most paltr}'- individuals affected 
this confidence. A disreputable blockade-runner, accustomed 
to wait in the ante-rooms of head clerks for passports, or per- 
mits for whiskey and woolen goods, would, to gaping and ill- 
smelling audiences in bar rooms, tell stories of "behind the 
scenes," and offer explanations why General Lee fought the 
battle of Gettysburg, and what were President Davis's whis- 
pered words about Johnston, 

It would be one of the most curious volumes of modern 
times, a collection of all the rumors circulated in Kiclimond 
alone during the war, leaving out none of their absurdities. 
It would be metaphysically interesting as showing how busy 
and various the human fancy is. There are but two persons 
now wlio could make such a collection, even approximately; 
and they, through this generation, will be graphically re- 
membered in Richmond as the rival news-hunters of a his- 
torical period. In this character they were the most noto- 
rious men in the capital. 

The first, a wealthy speculator and man of leisure, was 
popularly known as " Long Tom," from his thin and elongated 
figure. This man ai)peared to take a morbid delight in the 
sole occupation of hunting news day and night ; it got to be a 
kind of insanity with him ; he scarcely ate or slept, and, at 
almost every hour of the day, and far into the night, he might 
be seen haunting the telegraph office, wandering like a weary 
ghost in tlie passage way of the War Department, or holding 



320 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX PA VIS, WITH A 

bis hand to his ear on the skirts of every crowd on the street 
corners. He had no partieuhir pnrpose to serve in this eaves- 
dropping and ear-wigging ; it was his entertainment, his oc- 
cupation by choice, and he was never happier than when he 
obtained a piece of news, good or bad, with permission to 
retail it. 

His rival in the rumor business was a little, ferrety, inco- 
herent man, a druggist by profession, but a '" sensationist " 
by real occupation. He dealt only in the largest sensations. 
He had a habit of speaking with infinite gesture ; would 
sometimes be lost in a perfect splutter of exclamation, Avhen 
he had important news to convey ; and was so dense and un- 
intelligible in his communications, that he generally had to 
tell his story twice to be understood. He would sometimes 
break into the newspaper offices, pale and incoherent, with the 
most dreadful stories, nigh to bursting with news, and in such 
tremor from his emotions that the reporters would find it a 
task to calm him, and were wont to compose his nerves bv a 
strengthening draught as a preface to his recital. Once the 
author recollects to have been called across the street by this 
little man making the most eager and dramatic gestures, and 
actually quivering with excitement. " Great God, have you 
heard the news, ^[r. P.," he exclaimed thickly ; " Jeif. Davis 
has just committed suicide !"' An hour later, this ne\Ys of the 
tragic end of the Confederate Chief had circulated all through 
Eichmond, was wafted across the lines, and was given to the 
wings of the telegraph from James Eiver to the Penobscot. 

To recount even the most important of the folse rumors 
which possessed Eichmond during the war, would occupy 
more space than we can command. Let those who then re- 
sided in the Confederate capital but attempt to recall to mem- 
ory how often Ministers from England and France had arrived 



fiECRKT IITHTOIIY OF THE COKFEIjKPACY. 321 

with news of rocoguitiori ; bow often peace conuni.ssioners had 
come by devious ways to Kiclnnond, with protocols ami 
treaties ; how often Beauregard crossed the Potomac in 18G1 ; 
how often Wasliington had heen captured; liow often Grant's 
army had been defeated before Vicksburg — tlie stench of its 
dead being such that fires liad to be kindled on the lines and 
in the streets of the town, to purify the atmosphere (so said 
the tclegrai)h) ; in sliort, liow often great victories were won 
and great defeats suflered, which never happened, or existed 
out of imagination ! 

The rumors we liave described were not the least of the 
demoralizing consequences of Mr. Davis's unre[)ii]jlican style 
of government. They were saps of the public s})irit of the 
South. What is most remarkable of these rumors is that they 
frequently came from rcf)Utable and even semi-ofTicial sources 
They did not always come from obscure authors. 1'here 
were, of course, the common, ])altry classes of news retailers: 
— the man who had just came through the lines, the " intelli 
gent gentleman," the interesting lady refugee, and the perscni 
who mysteriously had it from "good authority," These 
might be listened to with contempt, or with a degree of skep- 
ticism. But in many instances in Kichmond, rumors grossly 
false were circulated from sources so well calculated to obtain 
belief, that for days and weeks they would possess the public 
mind, and compel even the credence of newspaper men, a 
class which, though ambitious of news, is characteristically 
skeptical, and trained to estimate its probability. The fact is, 
the Confederate Government was so close in its confidences 
so absolutely secret and secluse, that even those otherwise 
in close relations with it were imposed upon by false beliefs, 
and gave impressive endorsement to the wildest rumors. 

Thus, on one occasion, the excellent Doctor Minnigerodc, 
21 



0-2 LTFK OF JEFFEKSON PAVIS. WITH A 

pastor of Mr. Davis, and supposed to have coulideiices which 
the President would not give even to his Cabinet, rehited in 
the streets ot" Kiehmond, that a French envoy had hinded on 
the North Carolina coast, and was making his way to the 
capitiil. Coming from such a source, the story was re- 
ligious] v, almost universally believed in Richmond, for seve- 
ral days ; but it turned out that Doctor M. had been somehow 
imposed upon, and had innocently raised the hopes ol' the 
Coufederacv to a height that increased the shock and cruelty 
of the tall. 

An explanativui of the birth of rumors is vcrv dillicult. 
We have often wondered and speculated where all the false- 
hoods came from which make history. Many false rumors 
may be accounted for in interested inventions ; n\any may be 
traced to motives ; many originate in mistake and misrepre- 
sentation ; many come from the excess of hope or fear, " the 
wish the fatiier of the thought," and dread the parent of the 
apparition. But this does not account for all of them. IIow 
shall we explain those many rumors to which no conceivable 
motive attaches, causelessly originated, in cold blood, having 
no imaginable object? We sometimes lind worthy and re- 
spectable persons who by no means can be put in the de- 
graded class of liars giving currency to gross falsehoods, and 
even professing to have been witnesses of what they relate. 
These men are to some extent honest. Their conduct is not 
entirely beyond explaiuu ion. or inadnussible i>f some charita- 
ble construction. It often happens that they themsolvos have 
become absolutely convinced of some fact or occurrence ; they 
meet hearers who arc disposed to be skeptical, and who insist 
upon doubling; and. in a ::eal to ovorconte what tliev con- 
sider the obstinacy of disbelief, they will make additions to 
the story, or supply circumstances winch never occurred, to 



SECRET HISTORY OP^ THE CONFEDERACY. 323 

increase its credibility, beiicving, as long as the main state- 
ment is true, it will do no harm to add means to compel be- 
lief. This sophism in narrative is much more common than 
supposed, disreputable as it is. It accounts for a peculiar and 
large class of false rumors, and we roiucmbcr sonic rcm;irka- 
ble instances of it in the war. 

One instance may be given as characteristic. Towards tlie 
close of 1868, an "intelligent gentleman" arrived on the Mis- 
sissippi, related that he had travelled through a great part of 
the State of Texas with an envoy from England, who had 
come through Mexico on his way to Richmond, and had 
actually exhibited to him both his credentials and his letters 
of authority to recognize the Confederacy. What was most 
notable of the story was that its bearer was well known to 
many of the Western newspapers, which, in relating . the 
agreable news, vouched for him as a gentleman whoso honor, 
veracity and intelligence were absolutely indisputable. So 
there was an uproar of joyful excitement from one end to the 
other of the Confederacy. Unfortunately, however, for the 
sequel, the envoy never arrived at Richmond, or put in an 
appearance in the cis-Mississip{)i. The truth of the story is 
probably that the "intelligent gentleman" had been iniposed 
\ipon by an adventurer, and was so sure of his news that he 
thought himself safe in adding the circumstance of having 
seen his papers, bearing the royal seal, thus persuading the 
public to believe a fact of which he himself entertained no 
misgivings or doubts. 

The effect of this multitude of rumors on the public mind 
of the South could not but be to strain and distress, and ulti- 
mately to demoralize it. It could not end otherwise than in 
blunting the sensibilities of the people. Mr. Davis did not 
have practical sense enough to appreciate this disastrous 



824: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

effect ot the secrecy and excliisiveness in which he insisted 
upon conducting the public affairs ; he could not understand 
how the country suffered from his feverish fancies of im- 
perialism, and how, at last, overburdened with anxieties, and 
dulled by excessive excitement, it was losing its emotions 
and thus its inspiration in the war. It was significant how 
the public mind of the Confederacy in the last periods of its 
career descended to a condition of dull expectation. Its 
heart was worn out by the pendulous swing in which it 
oscillated from hope to fear. The very extent of rumors 
diminished the sensibilities with which they were received, 
and disheartened the Confederacy to a degree which many 
perceived without the least suspicion of its cause. 

In the North there could be no equal to the demoraliza- 
tion of the South from excessive rumors. There false state- 
ments of the war were plentiful; but, with the doors of 
Congress open, and with public curiosity having its usual 
access to the Government, barring only operations strictly 
military, the field for rumors was, of course, partial and con- 
tracted. In the South this field was illimitable. 

Mr. Davis bolted every door of the government, and 
every time he turned the key on a public measure, he un- 
caged, on the other hand, a flock of rumors. They darkened 
the air ; they preyed on the hearts of the people. Many of 
these rumors were of the most cruel description, heartless 
cheats of the little that remained to the people of hope. 
Like the Indian bats which are said to fan with their pinions 
the wound they make in the body of the sleeper, so as to 
soothe and not disturb him, while they drink from his veins, 
so these insidoius winged creatures of the imagination fed 
on the life-blood of the Confederacy, dying while it indulged 
in dreams. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONP""EDERACY. 325 



CHAPTER XX. 

Decay of the Patriotism of the South — No PoHHiblo Explanation of it, but tlio Maladmiiiistratioti 
of Mr. Davis — Coiiflition of tho Confederate ArniicH — Aversion to Military Service — Mr. Davin'ij 
.\pr"'nl to Absentees — False Praise of tho South for Devotion in tho War— Kighteen irundred 
Hahms Coi-puxea iu Riclimond — How the Conscription was Dodged — Humors of tho Ifaieaa 
Corpus — Tho Public Spirit of tlie South, Mean and Decayed— Senator Wigfall Scathes tlw 
Farmers — Utter Loss of Moral Influence by President Davis — Krdargement of the Conscrip- 
tion — A Thorough Militaj-y Despotism at Kichmon<l — Conscription and Impressment Twin 
Measures- The Scarcity of Foo<l in tho South, the Result of Mismanagement— A Notable Law 
in the Depnsciation of a Currency — An Interesting Incident of tlio First Battle of Manassas — 
The Errors of the Impressment Law — Tho War, a Choice of Despots, One at Wasliington. and 
One at Kichmond— Fearful Attack of Senator Tooniba on Mr. Davis's Administration — Tho 
South " Already Conquered." 

It would be difficult and perhaps unnecessary to enume- 
rate all the causes which conspired to decay the patriotism 
of the South, and to produce such manifest disaffection in the 
Confederacy as the war advanced to the limits of the period 
where our narrative has paused. For certainly and obviously 
the chief and sufficient cause of this must have been the mal- 
administration of Mr. Davis, in whatever particulars it oc- 
curred, and the loss of that influence which had formerly 
commanded the unmeasured devotion of the South. There 
had been no increase of the hardships of the war, commensu- 
rate with the decline of spirit in it ; there was no diminution 
of the desire for independence ; the sense of tlie enemy'.s 
wrongs had been exasperated ; there existed all the original 
motives and inspirations which bad formerly commanded 
the efforts of the South ; and there is no other explanation for 
the falling off and delinquency of these than a dissatisfaction, 



326 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

wide-spread and profound, concerning the conduct of the war 
and the administration of affairs summed in Mr. Davis's 
hands. 

In the early periods of the war there had been an excessive 
rage of volunteering. The care of the government had been 
not to raise but to reduce it ; and the zeal of patriotic contri- 
butions of all sorts had been unlimited. Now the army had 
become a name of terror ; everything was done to avoid the 
conscription which instead of being accepted as formerly with 
alacrity was shunned as the gates of death ; in the midsummer 
of 1863, it was estimated that a half or three-fourths of the 
Confederate forces were in the condition of desertion, strag- 
gling and absenteeism ; and as a further evidence of the aver- 
sion to military service, the curious statistic was furnished 
in a secret session of Congress that 10,000 fraudulent substi- P 
tute papers had been discovered in tlie archives of conscrip- 
tion. In vain Mr. Davis tried appeals to patriotism ; pub- 
lishing : — " The victory is within your reach ; you need but 
stretch forth your hand to grasp it ; '^ * * * * the men now ^ 
absent from their posts would, if present in the Held, suffice K 
to create numerical equality between our force and that of . 
the invaders." The absentees did not return ; and thousands 
of men subject to military duty fled the conscription, or 
exhausted all the means and arts of their lives to avoid its 
demands. 

Much has been Avritten boastfully of the patriotic devotion 
of the South in the late war. But we think judicious history 
will declare that although there might have been such a 
fervor in the commencement of the contest, all the later 
efforts of the South were compelled only by the harshest 
measures, and instead of being the free contributions of a 
public spirit, were the forced results of a military despotism. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 327 

Certainly the claim of patriotic devotion of the South cannot 
be maintained in the face of the facts, that only the utmost 
rij^or of conscription forced a majority of its troops in the 
field ; that half of these were disposed to desert on the first 
opportunities ; and that the demands for military service 
were cheated in a way and to an extent unexampled in the 
case of any brave and honorable nation engaged in a war 
for its own existence. We have the remarkable fact that 
in one year the Confederate States Attorney in liichmond 
tried eigliteen hundred cases in that city on writs of habeas 
corpus for relief from conscription! This honored wiit in 
fact became the vilest instrument of the most undeserving 
men ; and there is attached to it a record of shame for the 
South that we would willingly spare. Mr. Humphrey 
Marshall, a member of the Confederate Congress who recited 
woman's poetry in that body, about all sorts of death being 
preferable to submission, added to his pay as a legislator 
the fees of an attorney to get men out of the army ; he be- 
came the famous advocate in KichnK^nd in cases of habeas 
corpus ; and he is reported to have boasted that this practice 
alone yielded him an average of two thousand dollars a 
day! 

It has occurred to us that a book might be written of the 
experiences, in Ilichmond alone, of efforts to escape the dreaded 
conscription, and of the various dodges and artifices to which 
resort was had for exemption from service in a war which 
the newspapers were constantly declaiming as the most 
glorious of the age, and as illustrated with acts of universal 
and unmeasured devotion on the part of the people. Such 
devotion was only the imagination of editors, or the affecta- 
tion of Mr. Davis's partizans. How to escape the conscrip- 
tion was for months in Eichmond the unceasing concern of a 



328 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

population of one hundred and fifty thousand souls. The 
various dodges of this dreadful measure would be curious as 
examples of the general ingenuity of the human mind, 
if they were not also entertaining and humorous as incidents 
of character. The courts were sonorous with habeas corpus. 
Family Bibles were brought in to determine uncertainties 
of ages as within the boundaries of conscription. There 
were romances of perjury. One of the attorneys in such a 
case tells of an amusing instance where an old maid living in 
the country, anxious to diminish her own record of years, had 
tampered with the Bible of the family, and to make her re- 
duced age consistent, had ventured to dock a number of 
years from the lives of two or three brothers recorded on the 
same page. When the men came to claim their exemption 
on the score of age, the Bible was produced, and to their dis- 
may they found they had been made several- years younger on 
the record, bringing them within the fateful terms of the con- 
script age. Explanations had to be made, not the most 
delicate or pleasant ; — but any thing was to be suffered 
rather than to step into the ranks of those whom the journals 
represented as the glorious and happy defenders of their 
country. If conscription seized the shrinking victim there 
was yet hope. There were marts for substitutes nn every 
alley-way of Richmond ; and even, at the last, there was 
hope of a " detail," if there was money or influence to com- 
mand this last extremity of relief. The application for 
details was the side-show of the habeas coiyus. It burdened 
all the routines of the War Department, and claimed a 
" bureau " for its convenience. Merchants and bankers were 
willing to be detailed as mechanics and laboring men, to 
work on army supplies. Eich men applied for positions as 
railroad men, telegraphers, and miners, at the pay of thirteen 



SECRET HISTOEY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 329 

dollars a month, equal to fifteen cents in gold. Offices were 
invented by a convenient Secretary of War to shield fugitives 
from the conscription ; a person was relieved by him from 
military duty to write a "history of the war;" and two 
notorious lawyers of Eichmond, who had been busy at habeas 
corpus and who affected literary pastimes, were sheltered by 
the Maecenas of the War Department, one as a sinecure in 
the Treasury and the other as custos rutulorum in the scholas- 
tic dominions of Mr, Seddon. 

If such facts, concerning the evasion of military duty, 
signify any thing, it is that the patriotism of the South had 
become mean and decayed — that there was an amount of un- 
willingness in the war, which had to be constantly chastised 
and compelled by despotic laws. A few public men in the 
Confederacy were bold enough to confess its loss of public 
spirit, in opposition to all the cheap eulogiums and the self- 
complacency which has come down to our day of the noble 
devotion and generous sacrifices of the South in the war. 
Mr. Wigfall of Texas told the story plainly in the Senate, of 
the mean and grudging spirit that had taken possession of 
the people of the South concerning every contribution to 
the war. He said : — " It was the fashion to talk about the 
bone and sinew of the country, and to speak of the planters 
and farmers as having all of the religion, cultivation, educa- 
tion and patriotism of the country. Talk of speculators, 
extortioners, and Dutch Jews ! The farmers have been the 
worst speculators, extortioners, and Dutch Jews of this war. 
Has the population of the South changed? No. Have the 
Yankees driven out the people from their lands, and put in 
their places the Dutch and Irish with whom they have 
threatened to colonize the conquered States? No. These 
are the people of the South who are fighting for their 
liberties or getting other people to fight for them." 



330 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

It is remarkable that to those who make a boast of the 
patriotic devotion of the South in the war, and are intent to 
display it as an ornament of a lost cause, the thought has 
never occurred how this claim can consist with the necessities 
of conscription and impressment, the amount of force neces- 
sary to raise armies in the Confederacy, the amount of fraud 
by wlnch'the public service Avas cheated of men and material, 
the extent of desertions and of evasions of military duty, and 
all the other peculiar incidents we have mentioned of unwill- 
ing service and forced contribution in the war. We may not 
be able to establish fully the consistency of facts so opposite, 
but we have an explanation that may go a great way to re- 
deem a contradiction that impeaches seriously the honor and 
spirit of the South. The only possible hypothesis on which 
that honor can be saved is that the people of the South acted 
in the manner we have described, grudging the demands of 
the war from the conviction of the unworthiness and misdirec- 
tion of their government, rather than from that of any demerit 
or decline of their cause. It is certain that they had a great 
and noble cause to fight for, and that in the first part of the 
contest they had displayed unbounded devotion and courage, 
the admiration of the world. The cause had lost none of its 
merits, the war none of its just inspiration; these rather had 
been increased ; and yet at a time when the people of the 
South had in no degree diminished their desire for indepen- 
dence, and long before they thought the war for any natural 
reason hopeless, and when all that was thouglit necessary for 
its success was well-directed effort — when the disasters that 
had occurred were considered only of that measure which re- 
inspires and strengthens the courageous si)irit rather than re- 
duces it — we find them yielding the war an uncertain and 
niggardly support, displaying nothing of a former devotion, 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 331 

and disposed to deny or to cheat every contribution which the 
government required of them. The only exphanation can be 
that that government had in some way wounded them, in 
some way forfeited their confidence— either this, or that the 
people of the South had some inherent defect of cowardice or 
irresolution:— either Jefferson Davis unworthy, or the whole 
population of the South in fault and disgrace. A severe al- 
ternative, of which the reader may take the supposition he 

pleases. 

When Mr. Davis, after the disasters of Gettysburg and 
Vicksburg, found his appeals for volunteers unavailing, and 
when he must have been sensible of his loss of the popular 
confidence, we find him at once taking a new breadth of des- 
potism in his government— a measure, indeed, calculated to 
produce a certain re-animation of the war, and this foi* a cer- 
tain period, but having no depth of public spirit in it, and 
although postponing the catastrophe, yet making it more cer- 
tain and disastrous at the last. We refer to the enlargement^ 
of the conscription law. First, on the 15th of July, 1863/ 
came a proclamation of the President extending the limits of 
the conscription, which in the former year had been of persons 
between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, to include all up 
to the age of forty-five ; then an act of Congress extending 
the term of the conscript age to fifty-five years ; added to this 
a law repealing all substitutions in the military service, and 
actually compelling the seventy or eighty thousand persons 
who had furnished substitutes to take up arms themselves, 
and that without returning them the money tliey had paid 
or releasing the substitutes they had employed— an example 
oi the very effrontery of fraud and despotism; and lastly, at 
the close of the year, a law to clinch the whole matter, de- 
claring every man between eighteen and fifty-five years of 



332 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

age to belong to the army, subject at once to the articles of 
war, military discipline and military penalties, and requiring 
him to report within a certain time, or be liable to death as a 
deserter. The whole people of the South were made soldiers 
under martial law. The couutry was converted into a vast 
camp, and the government of Jeil'erson Davis into one oi' the 
most thorough militiiry despotisms of the age. 

But the levy en masse was not all. The twin measure of 
conscription, that which completed the despotic character of 
the government at Kichmond, was impressment. They Avere 
logical correspondents; they made as a whole a governn\ent 
in which the lives of the citizens and all the production and 
labor of the country, were put under military control. It was 
the maximum of the demands of a despotism. 

After the disasters of 1863, complaints of the want of food 
arose simultaneously with those of the deticiency of men ; 
and it was evident to the intelligent that the same decay of 
public spirit that denied the claims of military service, also 
withheld the meaner contributions of food and sup}>ly for tlio 
army. Both necessities grew out of the same unwilling spirit 
in the Confederacy. There was really no scarcity of food to 
the absurd extent represented by Mr. Davis when he declared 
that it was " hut the one danger to be regarded with apprehen- 
sion" — as if in an extensive and fruitful land like the South, 
there could be danger of the starvation of a whole population ! 
What necessities did really exist Averc mostly artificial, or of 
the government's own creation, '^^riiere was plenty of food in 
the South ; but it was badly distributed by a Commissary who 
was unwise and rapacious ; who had no idea of equalizing the 
supplies of the country, or conciliating the generosity of the 
people. Again, the apparent doliciency was greatly due to 
the Avretched cui'renc}'' of the Confederacy ; and that by a law 



i 



SECRET IIISTOIIY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 333 

certain and irresistible in its cllbcts. As a currency depreciates, 
a rise in prices takes place; it affords for the time a temporary 
accommodation to the producer. But it is remarkable that this 
rise docs not keep equal pace on the inverse scale of com- 
])arisons with the decline of the currency ; that it cannot do so, 
owing to the constant contest between buyer and seller, which 
delays and embarrasses the adjustment; and that the conse- 
quence is, that when a currency depreciates there is a general 
disposition to withhold from market and to hoard supplies 
which would otherwise be converted into mon6y. These re- 
sults were excessively realized in the Confederacy, where the 
currency was rapidly verging to worthlessness, and where 
hoarders and engrossers were found in every department of 
industry and in every class of society. 

In the early months of the war, when General Beauregard 
was preparing to fight the battle of Manassas, he had written 
a letter to a farmer in Orange county, representing that the 
army was in need of sixty wagon-loads of corn and provisions, 
and engaging to pay for the same and the expense of haul- 
insf, as soon as the funds could be obtained from Eichniond. 
The letter was read the following Sunday to all the churches 
in Orange county. The response was that the next day the 
sixty wagons, loaded with corn, were sent to General Beaure- 
gard, free of charge, and with the message that he should also 
keep the wagons and teams for the use of his army. Such 
was the patriotic generosity of a single county in Virginia ; 
^it was indicative of public spirit in the Confederacy. How 
great a change must have befallen that spirit, when, two years 
later, we find the same class of producers who then hastened 
with, donations for the army, avaricious and chaft'cring traders 
in the life-blood of their own country, refusing to sell their 
grain to the government, perhaps haggling about the price of 



33 4 LIP^E OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

pork per pound, when their sons and brothers in the army 
Avere living on a quarter of a pound of meat a day, and some- 
times had none at all. 

Truly the patriotism of the Confederacy had wofully de- 
clined — had fallen by a whole heaven — in view of a govern- 
ment compelled to recruit supplies for its armv in a war for 
its existence on the alternative of begging to buy them or 
of taking them with a ruthless hand. The arnw was badly 
fed ; it Avas worse clothed. It was said : — '' Day b}'- da}- the 
clothes made for the soldiers exhibit less wool and more 
cotton." Thousands of these poor fellows were clothed in the 
Federal uniforms which had been captured. Thousands were 
destitute of shoes ; and it was reported that nearly half of 
Longstreet's corps were barefoot, when the snows laid on the 
ground at the close of the j-ear 18G3, ]\ loan while the rail- 
way S3'stem of the Confederacy was giving out ; even if 
supplies were found it was difficult to transport them ; and 
thus distress from every point stared the people of the South, 
while the enemy continued to invade their towns and States, 
to offer liberty to their slaves, to enrol them in his armies, 
and to def}^ their retaliation. 

Great and bitter as were the wants of the government for 
supplies, nothing could have been worse than the law into 
which it wildly and madly plunged for a remedy. The law 
of impressment was excessive ; it alarmed the sentiment of 
the whole countr}^ ; it destroyed the last vestiges of civil 
rights in the Confederacy. To show to what extent the 
government of !Mr. Davis contemplated its powers, it may be 
mentioned that his dull creature, Northrop, the Commissary- 
General had proposed to him to seize plantations throughout 
the South, and to work them on government account ;* and 

* "The plan is for the Government to take possession of the plan- 



SECRET UITSORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 335 

that tlie President had, only after hesitation, declined this 
high-handed scheme to adopt the more nnilbrin, but scarcely 
less cruel law of impressments. I'his law authorized the 
government to seize or impress all the produce necessary 
for the army. It provided that a board of commissioners 
should be appointed in each State who should determine, 
every sixty days, the prices which the government should 
pay for each article of produce inipressed within the State. 
A central board of commissioners was also appointed for all 
the States. The act authorized the agents of the govern- 
ment to seize all tlic produce of the farmer, except so much 
as was necessary to sustain himself and family. 

Denunciations of the law arose on all sides. It was in- 
separable from abuses. The newspapers complained of the 
rude and rapacious action of "the press-gangs." The meaner 
citizens resorted to all possible methods to save their property 
from impressment ; many of them were driven to sell clan- 
destinely or openly their stores to non-producers out of 
the army, who were willing and anxious to pay fifty or a 
hundred per cent, more than the government paid. On the 
other hand the few who were really patriotic and disposed to 
contribute to the war, who still maintained a romantic en- 
thusiasm in the contest, had their feelings hurt ; they were 
touched in their pride and sense of justice that the govern- 

tations, or such portions of them as the owners do not in (end to seed 
with grain, etc., and to employ negroes belonging thereto in raising 
such agricultural products as may be deemed necessary. Officers 
and soldiers who have been rendered by wounds or disease unlit for 
farther service in the field could be employed as superintendents and 
overseers * * * Let the emergency be urged upon the President, 
while there is yet time to save ourselves." — Letter of Northrop to 
Secretary of War, April 25, 18G3. 



836 LIFE OF JEFFEBSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

nient should treat tliem with rudeness and suspicion. Yet 
another and more important class of citizens resented the 
law in a more serious light — as an act of unexampled despot- 
ism. There were men even in the Confederate Congress 
who were bold enough to declare that impressment and 
ether acts of misrule and oppression in the administration of 
]S[r. Davis had extracted all virtue from the cause, and that 
the war simply remained as a choice of despots, one at 
Washington and one at Eichmond. " I have heard it fre- 
quently stated," said Senator Toombs, of Greorgia, " and it has 
been maintained in some of the newspapers in Richmond, 
that we should not sacrifice liberty to independence ; but I 
tell you, m}'- countrymen, the two are inseparable. If we 
lose our liberty, we shall also lose our independence ; and 
when our Congress determined to support our armies by 
Impressment, gathering supplies wherever they found them 
most convenient, and forcing them from those from whom 
their agents might choose to take them, in violation of the 
fundamental principles of our Constitution, which requires 
all burdens to be uniform and just, and paying for them 
such prices as they chose, they made a fatal blunder, which 
cannot be persisted in without endangering our cause, and 
probably working ruin to our government. The moment 
they departed from the plain rule laid down in the Con- 
stitution — that impressment of private property should only 
be made in cases where absolute necessity required them — 
they hwd the foundation for discontent among the people ; 
they discouraged labor, and incorporated a principle which 
is not only in violation of the Constitution, but fatal to the 
rio-hts of property. The Constitution cannot be dispensed 
with in time of war any more than in time of peace. If it is 
overthrown we are already conquered." 



SECRET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDERACY. 837 



CIIAPTEE XXL 

The Scarcity of Food in the South in Connection with the Subsiatence of Prisoners— Secret His- 
tory of the Administration of the Confederate Prisons — No Provision for Feeding Prisoners — 
A Brutal Incident at the Lihbj- — Anecdote of a Yankee Boatswain — Commissary Nortlirop 
Recommends that tlie Prisoners be Chucked into the James River — Laws of the Confederacy 
concerning Prisoners — Exceeding Humanity of Quartermaster-General Lawton — Northrop de- 
feats it — His Coup d'Htat on a Drove of Beeves — Nortlirop Responsible for the Maltreatment 
of Prisoners — Sorrowful Story of Wirz — "The Wrong Man" Hung — Measure of Mr. Davis's 
Responsibility for the Sufferings of the Prisoners — His Extraordinary Affection for Northrop 
— Mr. Foote on the "Pepper Doctor" — Senator Orr has a Flea put in his Ear — The Subject 
of Discipline in the Confederate Prisons — An Argument to Relieve Mr. Davis from the Charge 
of Deliberate Cruelty — The Authentic Version of the Libby "Gunpowder Plot" — Tlie Spy's 
Story — Richmond Sleeping on the Crust of a Volcano — Why the Prisoners were Distributed to 
Salisbury and Audersonville. 

In" connection with the scarcity of food and necessary sup- 
plies in the South occurs a subject of interest which we may 
conveniently examine here. We refer to that large volume of 
complaint against Mr. Davis for the maltreatment of Northern 
prisoners, especially in the article of subsistence. We have 
already, on the subject of the Confederate commissariat, made 
some suggestions which throw light on this matter; but we 
find no more proper place in our work than the present to 
sum a brief account of the administration of the Confederate 
prisons. We propose thus to go over rapidly the history of 
the subsistence of Federal prisoners in the South — a subject 
so serious and interesting as to have founded extensive ex 
aminations both at Washington and Kichmond, but the secret 
history of which is scarcel}^ yet known. 

It is remarkable that in the early periods of the war there 
was no system whatever, no organized provision for subsist- 
22 



ooS LIFE OF JKFFERSOX lUVlS, WITH A 

iug the prisoners who soou coaimenood to accuinulato on tlie 
bauds of the government. There was an olhoer. of the rank 
of lieutenant, who had charge of the unfortunate creatures, 
Avho subsisted them by irreguhir purchases in the Kichniond 
markets, and who Avas left to determine, as of his own discre- 
tion, the measure and article of food. Lie was removed for a 
sinQ:ular freak some weeks at\;er the battle of Manassas. Having 
had a drunken quarrel with the quartermaster as to who 
should bury the dead of the prison, he had left two corpses iu 
front of the office of the latter, in a wagon halted in one of the 
most public streets near the Capitol, and. unhitching the 
horses in sight of a horrilied crowd, had abandoned the ''dead 
Yankees " to take their chances of burial as the authorities, 
other than himself, might determine. It was a day's scandal 
in Eichmond, and the brutal othcer was removed. But for 

i< fortv-eiirht hours nearlv two thousand prisoners were without 
a mouthful of food, until a subordinate of the prison, moved 
bv their cries or alarmed by their mutiny, found some barrels 
of corn-meal in the stores of the prison, and fed it to them in 
buckets of nuish. 

It was through this humane diligence that Captain Warner, 
a generous and efficient man, became afterwards charged with 
the subsistence of the prisoners. The Captain often told in 
Richmond, with great emotion, his experience with the pris- 
oners, mutinous and savage for want of food ; for surely tiicre 

j is no fiercer devil in the human composition, none that dares 
more than hunger. He was walking in the prisoners' gal- 
leries of the Libby, explaining that a difficulty had occurred in 
tiieir supplies of food, but that they should have illimitable 
stores on the morrow, when an immense Yankee boatswain 
clutched him by the collar, and dragged him into a circle of 
angry faces, desperate from hunger. " You arc a good com- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 339 

missary," said Jack, "and lam a good prisoner; I am the 

Vxi.st prisoner you ever saw in the world ; but, d n me, if I 

had not rather face one hundred of Jeff. iJavis's cannon than 
be starved like a dog." "I felt rather unh/xppy hv a few 
moments," said Captain Warner, " but I promised the fellow, 
who shook me, heavy as I was, as if I was no more than a 
baby in his hands, that if he would let me go, he should have 
some grub in half an hour, I found nothing in the store- 
house of the prison but three barrels of meal. I made it into 
hot mush, filled some buckets with it, and had it passed in to 
the prisoners. But you may bet I didn't go inside. I called 
to Jack through the grate that I had got him the healthiest 
supper I could; and not to let the men burn their mouths." 

The next day Captain Warner represented to General 
Winder, the principal officer in charge of the prisoners, that 
there was no subsistence for them, and that they were in the 
actual pangs of hunger. He was directed at once to make a 
requisition on Colonel Northrop, the cross-grained and eccen- 
tric Commissary-General — an officer whose idea of impor- 
tance was to have a fit of insolence whenever he was ap- 
proached, and who was either gruff or hysterical in his official 
intercourse. 

" I know nothing of Yankee prisoners," he said ; " throw 
them all into the James river !" 

"At least," said Captain Warner, "tell me howl am to 
keep my accounts for the prisoners' subsistence." 

"Sir," said Northrop, slightly inclining his eyes to the 
anxious inquirer, " I have not the will or the time to speak 
with you. Chuck the scoundrels into the river !" 

Here was a quandary. There was no law to charge the 
Commissary-General with the subsistence of prisoners; he 
insisted that it belonged to the quartermaster's department; 



3-iO LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAYIS, WITH A 

the latter denied it, and, in a dead-loek of quibbles the pris 
oners might be left to starve. The ingenuity of a lawyer 
was required to solve the dispute. Captain Warner had 
been appointed Commissary of Prisons and ^-et Northrop re- 
fused to aeknowledge his authoritv or to fill his requisitions, 
and was completely obscure and impracticable on a question 
of humanity. Happily a convenient law or military regula- 
tion was hunted up, to the effect that a bonded commissary 
might be assigned to perform certain duties of quartermaster 
at his post. Under this law Captain Warner might draw 
his supplies fro}n the Quartermaster-General and might be 
independent of the odious Northrop. Another obscure 
statute was discovered ; it was an act of the early Congress 
at Montgomery ; it consisted only of three or four lines, but 
it was very important. It provided with rare humanity that 
the prisoners of war should have the same rations as Con- 
federate soldiers in the field. 

Under the arrangement indicated by these laws the prison- 
ers were comfortably, and even generously, subsisted lor 
many months. The arrangement was perfected not long after 
the battle of Manassas. Food was then abundant in Eich- 
mond, and the best beef sold for onl)^ eight cents a pound. 
When supplies became scarce ; when the foolish law author- 
izing impressments and assigning "government prices," drove 
nearly every producer from the market, it became a matter 
of extreme difficulty to feed the prisonei's and to divide what 
could be obtained between their necessities and those of the 
Confederate troops in the field. The Commissary of Prisons, 
acting inde})endently of Northrop, employed travelling agents 
to purchase supplies at the best prices, and never allowed 
his solicitude for the unhappy men in his charge to be im- 
paired by demands in other departments of the government. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 341 

As evidence of this solicitude it may be mentioned that in 
the winter of 1863, a memorable season of scarcity, it was 
proposed to buy supplies for the prisoners in some of the 
upper counties of Virginia, where Confederate money was re- 
fused, and that to effect the humane undertaking, General 
Lawton, then Quartermaster-Greneral, was willing to draw a 
requisition for fifty thousand dollars in gold. 

But these purchases were defeated by an unforeseen inter- 
ference. Commissary Northrop had opposed all pnrcljases 
of supplies outside of his department ; he complained that 
Captain Warner paid larger prices than the government 
maximum ; he insisted that as the first care was to provide 
for the troops in the field, he should have the first option of 
all marketable supplies; and at last he assumed to "impress" 
the subsistence puchased for the prisoners and to divert it to 
his own department. A fierce war was waged between him 
and Warner ; rival committees of investigation were raised 
in Congress ; and the supplies of the Libby became a bone 
of contention. On one occasion Warner's ageats had brought 
down from Augusta county a drove of one hundred and 
seventy-five beeves, and Northrop had performed a coup 
d'etat by impressing them on the skirts of Richmond. Not 
to be entirely outdone, Captain Warner, in the winter of 
1863, loaded sixty -three cars in North Carolina with sweet 
potatoes, brought tliem to the Libby, pounded them and then 
sifted them through the wire-nets he tore from the windows,^ 
and composed a curious bread made of equal measures of 
mash of potatoes, flour and corn-meal. "It was the best 
bread I ever ate," says Captain Warner. But even this 
invention was spoiled by Northrop. He had determined to 
take control of all the subsistence of the Confederacy, and to 
interdict all special purchases for the consumption of prison- 



oi:2 LIFE OF JKFFEUSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

ors. The first result w;is a regulation requiring- the Com- 
missary of Prisons to }>urehase from the Connnissary-C'ieneral; 
and ultimately, in the s}>ring of ISG-i, a law was passed 
virtuall}- abolishing the former oilice and transterring the 
subsistenee of prisoners to the tender mereies of the man 
who had wished the thousands ol' them in Kiehmond at the 
bottom of James river. 

From this time whatever there was of distress for food 
among the prisoners is to be properly and distinetly charged 
to one n\an in the Confederaey — Northrop. It is a ]uty that 
this was not known when poor Wirz, the miserable scape- 
goat of Confederate maladministration, was sent to the 
gallows ; and we may understand the remorseful remark of 
the .ludge- Advocate of the court that, condenmed him. when 
better acquainted with the system under which the Southern 
prisons were managed — he is reported to liave declared that 
'' he had hung the wrong man I" 

A few words of this tragic episode, this fearful misadven- 
ture of Northern vengeance, may properly be introduced 
here. Captain Wirz died an innocent man. llis history 
was one of the most harmless we have ever known. In 
1S61 he had come to Kiehmond. a ]n-ivate in a comjvxny 
from Louisiana, called the Madison Inl'antry. lie was de- 
tailed as a sentinel at the Libby ; there his fidelity and in- 
telligence were noticed, and lie was promoted to a clerkship 
in the prison. From this capacity he was sometimes called 
to undertake slight executive duties about the prison, and 
for this obtained a commission, lie acquired such reputa- 
tion for his diligence and energy that when Secretary 
]\ra,llory wished in 18();> a trusty agent to convey some 
ordnance to the coast of Louisiana, Wirz was indicated to him 
as the man of all others for a service so dilficult. AVhen he 



HKCRKT HIHTOI'.y OF THK COXFEDERACY. 343 

liJif] got tlif; cannon by alrnont Hnpcrliurnan offortH to the 
Mi.sHisHippi river, General J^ernberton Hei/ed it, and Wirz 
returned diHgusted to Kichrnond, and half reHolvcd to quit 
the Hcrviee, from which he had once before obtained a 
furlough to recruit hi.s health in Kurope. At thin time 
General Winder was establishing the pri.Hori at Ander«on- 
villc; ho had went hi.s son down, a youth, commiH.sioned as 
lieutenant to take charge of it; but it wan suggested that an 
officer of }iigher rank and more experience should go. 
Captain Wirz was urgently solicited to undertake tlie mis- 
sion, and as warmly refused it. At last lie consented to go, 
but on the express promise of General VV^inder that he was 
only to make a brief stay to relieve an embarrassment about 
the youth and inexperience of his son, and that he would be 
recalled in a few weeks. Winder never relieved him, and 
the unhappy man was left there to fall a victim to a fate he 
had never provoked or ndvar suspected ! 

l''or wliatevor there was of maltreatment of Northern 
prisoners, the responsibility of Mr. Davis is to be measured 
as that of any other part of his administration. The l^resi- 
dent, himself, had an easy and humane temper, unless in fit.s 
of enraged vanity. No one ever accused him of cruelty; but 
if he employed such cruel and incompetent agents as North 
rop, continuing to employ him after repeated exposures ot 
his unworthiness, it is V)ut fair that he should suffer some- 
thing of responsibility for the abuses we have described. 
The law of agency is as certain in politics as in any other 
jifT'air of life. The President of the Southern Confederacy, 
although defended from the bulk of those atrocious Northern 
inventions concerning cruelty to pri.soners, is yet to be 
Vjlamed, not lightly, for continuing in his ernf;loyment such 
agents as Winder and Northrop, each a favorite cn-ntiire, the 



S4i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Inst extravagantly so, and both of them repeatedly brought 
to his attention as incompetent and scandalous officers. 

His alToction for Northrop was grotesque, inexplicable, 
insane, "The pepper doctor from South Carolina " was as 
great a curiosity at the head of the Confederate Ctimmissariat 
as Memminger, the eccentric, with tall beaver and black bag, 
mumbling his soliloquies on the street, was at the head of 
the Confederate Treasury. ]\[r. Davis could plead no igno- 
rance of the idiosyncrasies or insanities of Northrop. They 
were laughed at or derided, by nearly every person in the 
Confederacy ; or they were sternly accused in Congress. He 
was thus spoken of in this body: — "A certain Commissary- 
General Avho is a curse to our country has been invested 
with authority to control the matter of subsistence. This 
man has placed our government in the attitude charged by 
the enemy, and has attempted to starve the prisoners in our 
hands." Mr. Footc, of Tennessee, added the following graphic 
touch : " This Commissary-General, who I am told was a sort 
of pepper-doctor down in Charleston, and I must say looking 
as like a vegetarian as his practice would indicate, has 
actually made an elaborate report to the Secretary of War, 
showing, that for the subsistence of a human Yankee carcass, 
a vegetable diet is the most proper that can be adopted !" 

One other instance of remonstrance by Congress against 
Northrop deserves to be related. Senator Orr, of South 
Carolina, backed by several Congressmen, attempted to pro- 
cure his removal, moved by the outcry from the army 
and the country against an officer especially hateful and 
ignorant, who was ridiculed for his grotesque incompetency, 
who had been lampooned as a vegetarian, and who had been 
accused as almost insane. " Gentlemen," replied Mr. Davis, 
" you do not know Mr. Northrop as I do. I assure you he 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 845 

is a great military genius, and if he had not preferred his i 
present position, I would have given him the command of 
one of the armies in the field." And so both Federal prison- 
ers and Lee's army were left to starve on the theoretic genius 
of the pepper-doctor ; and Congress, abashed and impotent, 
was again forced to surrender to the supreme pleasure of Mr. 
Davis, and to accept one of his worst creatures, one most 
fatal and shameful to the Confederacy. 

While we are treating the subject of the administration of 
the Confederate prisons, we may not omit the subject of their 
discipline; although it is significantly to be noticed that bat 
few complaints of the enemy were lodged on this account, and 
that they mo.=5tly related to the article of food and supplies, 
in which principally it was alleged that the Federal prisoners 
were sufferers. The distress for food was the main com- 
plaint. The remark is very significant ; for it appears that 
the Federal prisoners were punished or pinched only in a 
respect in Avhich the whole army and people of the South 
were, alike, sufferers ; and the thought obviously occurs that 
if Jefferson Davis had really a disposition of cruelty towards 
these unfortunates, he might have gratified it through means 
much more direct and effective than that of dealing out to 
them insufficient rations; that a harsh and murderous disci- 
pline would have been much more to such purpose thaa 
stinted allowances of food. The Federal prisoners sulT'ered 
only in that respect in which the whole South suffered. 
The fact is powerfully significant in relieving Mr. Davis of 
the charge of cruelty to prisoners ; although even in this 
respect we are not disposed to acquit him of obstinate care- 
lessness in the supervision of his agents and subordinates, 
and of that responsibility which ensues from an act of omis- 
sion or attaches to a case of negrlect. 



o-kQ LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

If there bad really been a disposition in the head of the Con- 
federate government to maltreat prisoners, we repeat the means 
were mueli niore easy and obvious in a harsh discipline than 
in insufficient doles of subsistence. But the fact is that the 
discipline of the Confederate prisons, was mild and lax to a 
fiiult. The incontestable proof of this easy and imperfect 
discipline is the vast number of prisoners who escaped to the 
North. There were insufficient guards of Southern prisons 
their inmates had such great breadth of license that they 
were almost constantly in a condition of mutiny and revolt ; 
and if there were occasional acts of restraint and terrorism on 
the part of the Confederate authorities, it was because the 
prisoners had become insolent from the very excess of 
freedom allowed them; were ill-contained by their guards 
and were constantly encouraged to etYorts at escajie and to 
attempts of revolt by the lax and insufficient discipline 
which the means of the South afforded to govern and secure 
them. 

Much has been told, gloomily and melodramatically, of a 
mine of gunpo\Yder under the Libby prison, dug there on the 
event of the Dahlgren raiders, and. designed to blow the 
])risoners to destruction, should any attempt for their rescue 
be made. The story has been told with great dramatic effect ; 
but the truth of it is very simple, and illustrates the disposi- 
tion to construct horrors about Southern prisons. It was told 
to the prisoners that such a mine was under their ieet to deter 
them from a revolt, wliich was then plainly threatened ; but, 
indeed, the Confederacy had no such quantity of gunpowder 
to spare for a puerile scare-crow. The story quieted the 
prisoners, and probably averted a scene of horror that was 
being prepared for Richmond, and that was known to not 
more than three men — these officci's connected wiih the Libby 
prison 



SECIiET IIISTOllY OF Tllli CONFEDEUACY. 347 

It has been confessed since the war that the keeper of tliis 
prison, aware of his insufficient ff)rce to guard it and prevent 
escapes, dreading almost cacli niglit, while Jtiohtnond slept 
secure, that a determined revolt of the jirisoners might over 
v/helm the few hundred men who guarded it, hit upon the 
phin of employing among them a spy, introduced in the 
character of a i^ederal captive, wlio regularly gave iiifoiTna- 
tion oCtlie various plots of the prisoners to which he gained 
confidence. At the time the raid of Dahlgren was afoot, the 
spy reported that the prisoners had been made aware of this 
movement outside to assist their escape, and had prepared at 
a signal to batter out the walls which confined them, and to 
unite in a foray through the streets of Kichmond, including 
the murder of Jefferson Davis and tlie indiscriminate pillage 
of the citizens. A fearful plot was exposed. Beams had been 
detached from the rafters of tlie prison, to be used as batter- 
ing rams. There were then men enough in the prisons of 
Richmond to constitute an army. In the Libby prison alone 
there were eleven hundred inmates ; in Crew and Pemberton's 
Factory, across the street, there were twenty-five hundred; 
and including the men.confined on Belle Isle, there were not 
less than fifteen thousand prisoners in and arouiid Richmond, 
guarded by a few hundred men, and who might any moment, 
by a bold and concerted movement have obtained their liberty 
(even witliout the assistance of such raids as Dahlgren's), 
and have collected in the Confederate capital an enraged and 
impetuous army, tliat would have made their way with blood 
and fire through every street. The extent of the peril was 
never popiilarly known in Richmond. It .slept each night on 
tlie crust of a volcano. It is almost incredible now, that when 
Lee's army was away, the safety of Richmond should have 
been watclied hy two local battalions, and so when fifteen 



848 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAV1S» WITH A 

thousand prisoners had only between tlieni and their liberty 
and revenge, a tliin wall, or a few cannon planted on the 
boundary of their range. The true romance of the-Dahlgreu 
raid was not the night-fight on the turnpike and in the 
forest, but the secret story of Libby Prison ; the meditation 
of fifteen thousand men, to make their way as furies into the 
streets of Richmond, and to give a whole city to fire and sword. 
The storv was hushed up ; the " gun[)owder plot" tliat had been 
used to aftright the conspirators, was treated only as a vague 
rumor in the newspapers; but it is remarkable that alter this 
date, Mr. Davis was busy to distribute the prisoners through 
the South, sending them to distant places,, as Salisbury and 
Audersonville ; relieving Richmond of an incubus of terror 
of which it had happily been unconscious, and whore only 
the happy ignorance of all the Confederate Government did 
and proposed had secured it from alarm. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY, 349 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Brilliant Military Effects of Conscription and Impressment— The Richmond Govemmjnt, the 
Harshest Despotism of the Age — New Hopes of the War — The South not Deficient in Kesources 
— Pictures of Plenty — The Shadow of Jefferson Davison the Prospect — Tlie Renewed Confi- 
dence of the South in the War Explained — The Position of the Northern Democratic Party in 
1864 — A Great Advantage which the South had in the War — What a Richmond Journal Said 
of the Situation — Why the South Failed in the War — False Theory of Deficient Resources — 
Moral Desertion of the Confederate Cause— Proof of it in the Behavior of Southern Men since 
t)ie War — The Southern Character Corrupted by the Misrule and Misuse of President Davis — 
Peculiarities of the Campaign of IHfA — Its Fierce Battles — The True Situation Around Rich- 
mond — A Ten Minutes' Battlr; — Lee Better Situated at Richmond than in the Wilderness — A 
Maxim of Napoleon — No Alarm in Riclimond — Manners in the Filthy and Accursed City — Mr 
Davis's Ifousehold — His Want of Moral Influence in Richmond — Exclamation of a Joyous 
Editor — The Confidence of the Country Healthier than that of the Capitol — A Southern Lady's 
Pictures of Country-Life — Prospect of Peace on the Horizon — ^A Picture of the Arena of the 
War. 

The measures of conscription and impressment, which 
completed at Richmond one of the harshest despotisms of 
the age, yet developed a brilliant and imposing array of 
Confederate force for the great campaign of 1864, which both 
sides had determined should bo decisive of the war. All the 
rcsoaif'.'.'j.s of the South were carried to the front and displayed 
thci'j. The war had now reached every man and every 
family in the Confederacy; it had extorted a tribute from 
every household; it had taxed every sinew of the country, 
which now turned upon the enemy a concentrated and 
formidable aspect, a strained and desperate expression 
that iniglit well have made him anxious for what was 
plainly the last issue and the dominant campaign of the 
contest. 



850 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, ^V1T^ A 

The hopes of the South thireJ up again at the beginning 
of the eanipaign of ISO-i. There was a brilliant return of 
coiifideuce. The question of food had passed away Avitli tlie 
short crops of 1863. and Mr. Davis had said, with reason : — 
'• The facts demonstrate that, with judicious k^gislation. wo 
shall be enabled to meet all the exigencies of the war from 
our abundant resources." Indeed, as we have elsewhere 
indicated, and making allowance for the partial failure of a 
single year's crop of grain, the resources of the South, botli 
in men and subsistence to prosecute the war were ample; and 
as we may hereafter see, they were not insullicient, not ex- 
hausted, when the South chose to la}'- down its arms in sur- 
render, and more than six millions of people declared them- 
selves defeated, professing that they were so from tlie wear 
of their resources, not from any great catastrophe oi' their 
arms. The difficulty was — and had been, ever since the 
second year of the war — the unwillingness of the people to 
support the misgovernment of Mr. Pavis, not their ]ihysieal 
inability to prosecute the war, and to supply men and material 
for a contest, which, if prolonged, could not have been other-, 
wise than successful. 

If there be any who doubt that the difficulty of men and 
supplies was in the decline of tlie spirit of the South, and 
who are disposed to insist that it was in the decay of re- 
sources, we have only to ask them to estimate the real, abund- 
ant, physical power of the Confederacy in the last year ol' the 
war, the events of which wo are proposing to relate. It Avas 
then accounted that the conscription would bring more than 
four hundred thousand men into the field. Subsistence, 
instead oi' being scarce, Avas superabundant, no matter how 
illy the government of Mr. Davis bestowed it. A writer who 
followed the invading armies of the North, in the campaign 



SKaMIKT IllS'l'OliV OK TlIK CH)N FKDKliACY, 851 

of 1804, llms (K'scrilxis some, of tlio aspects oC ihr. roiiln: 
" WlicrcvcT tlio IA'iUm'uI soldier Ikis penel.fjited, 1h". lias I'oiiiul 
Ln':ui!ivic!s lilled willi <'<>rii uiilil lliev overllow ; <';inleiis iii 
Avliieli ;.;;f(>\v all IIh' lii xiirit'S of the season ; pasi iii'es and hills 
not dcsorlml by lloeks and licrds; yunls IVc(puMil.ed by fowls, 
and dove-e,()t,(!S not, abandoniHl by \]\c, innoeenl, inniutiis. ^Tlio 
e.a,va.li"y lioi'ses, in l,lie si'a.st)n, waded lliron';!! (■li>vei- knee- 
de(>p, an<l l.Iu; ,ii;r()win^i:,' wheal- brushed llieir sides as tliey 
passed." 

In addition t,o ihis pl(>nty ol' {]\c (piiek and IVuiirul land oC 
ilie Sonl.li, niannl;n'(.iires of necessary arl.iek'S of the war had 
Ix'come prosperons. 'IMicrc; was no lon^iM' any seai'cily ol" 
iron, inipKMncuils, and machinery. l^]st.a,blisllnl(Mlts Ibi- llio 
inaiinliu^luri^, ol' cannon, snutll arms, powder, shot, sliell, wag- 
ons, ambula,nces, and all t.he materials of war, wcire more I, ban 
snp|>lied iJie dema,nd. 'IMie linnUHJ coinmerco tlironi;h tJu; 
blockade had, by a wise law, been made tributary to the 
f2:ovcrnmcnt, and for every pound of cotton exported, tlie 
owniM' ba<l to siini a, l)ond, contbtioncd tha,t at least one haJl' 
the vabu^ be iuvi^stcnl in }i,()ods and nicrcliaudisc on account 
of the government, and brought into the Confederacy witliiu 
sixty days. It was thus tliat the material resounres of the 
South a.bonnde(l in season for the (;an\pa,ign t)f 18(')1. Nothing 
was wanting to ([uicken them but conlidence in tlu; adminis- 
tra,tion of Mr. Davis. 

'IMiere was confidence euongh in the naked prospect of the 
war, as stripped of tlui sha<low which .h'tl'erson I)a,vis, alone, 
tlirew upon it. It was not only that acenmnlation of maJei-ial 
resources we ha,ve noticed which was the ground of llie renewed 
hope of the South as it entered on the last yciw of tlu; war, 
^J'here was another and grcatiM- reason Ibi- it. The North, in 
coiuluctiug the war, had constantly the disadvantage of a 



oo2 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS WITH A 

divided public sentiment ; and there was a near prospect in 
the approaching Presidential election that this occasion of a 
great popuhir dissent might be turned to the account of the 
South, and increase the encouragement which it had already 
greatly derived from the political controversies of the enemy. 
Tn fact, it is to be admitted that the division of public opinion 
in the North, had already thrown a great weight on the 
balance of the war in favor of the South. It was an advan- 
tage of the latter that has not been justly estimated in the 
comparisons which Southern men have been fond to make 
between the resources of the contestants. It reduces them to 
something like equality, when we consider that the political 
division in the North must have detracted from its power to 
make war in proportion to the numbers that it carried oif 
from the support of the government ; that the comparison is 
to be justly made as between the resources which were avail- 
able on each side, not those merely apparent on a statistical 
parallel of population and wealth, as described in the census. 
There were, as yet, comparatively no political parties in the 
South. In the North they divided it nearly by halves, and 
that on the immediate question of the prosecution of hostili- 
ties; and the approach of a Presidential election threatened 
yet further to disturb that public sentiment which was essen- 
tial to carry on and sustain the war. We may safely conclude 
that it was at no great physical disadvantage that the South, 
with all her strength brought to the surface by conscription 
and impressment, with all her resources employed in the war, 
re-entered the contest in the year 186-1, and commenced the 
campaign on the torn, yet unpenetrated, borders of Virginia 
and Georgia. 

A Eichmond journal, in Januar}^, 1864, thus described the 
situation : — " The South not only is not conquered ; but, if 



SKCUET Il[STO]iY OF Til 10 CONFKDEUACY. 353 

she choscs, she never can bo. In fi jiopulation of five millions, 
there is one in five capable of making' resistance ; capable of 
exerting effective eflbi't, in some i'orm, in opposing an aggres- 
sivi^ ])()\ver. if true to lierscll^ the South is e;i[)able of suc- 
cessfully resisting a million of men. Can a people thus 
possessing an army of at least four hundred thousand brave 
men be eoncjnored by any foreign power unless they chose 
to be? 'V\\c Noi'lh boasts twenty millions jx'ople. One in 
twenty of Lliis number is more than it has yet succeeded in 
placing upon ils muster rolls. The ])lain deduction (i-om 
this statement of the case, is, that if the Soutli has sull'ored 
reverses in the contest to the extent of bi'inging her cause 
into any sort of peril, it has been cither from want of valor in 
the peojile, or of capacity in the government. Tt is for the 
public to determiui; wIumh; the blame lies; our own opinion is 
well-known. '^Phe wliole male po[)ulalion, between tin; ages 
of eighteen and foiMy-live, with a few necessary exce[)l.ions, 
have been placL'd at the disposal of the govermnent ; and oui 
impressment laws have exposed to it the whole available 
substance of the country, which tluiy have sei/icd with a 
strong and used with a lavish hand. If our cause has been 
brought into peril, it need not remain so for one moment, if 
those who are charged with responsibility but pen-form theit 
duty with wisdom, with hom^sty, and with ability." 

There has been an explanation of the South's failure in the 
war, very consoling to the pride of its people and much over- 
asserted in its newspa])('rs: — that it was the vi(;tim of jdiysi- 
cal necessities, and that it succumbed only to these ; tliat it 
lost its cause from a deficiency of men and materials. This 
excuse, is, of course, pleasant to the vanity of the South ; it \ 
founds the tender and romantic thet)ry of a great and spirileJ 
nation overcome by accidents, yet preserving its honor to the 
23 



854: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

last, and asserting a certain eclat in misfortune. Bnt the 
theory is false, illogical and not without a mean stripe of 
hypocrisy in it. The eyes of the world cannot deny that 
since the surrender of the South there have been found popu- 
lation and subsistence enough in it to support a defensive war 
for many years — sufficient to furnish many such wars as 
those which Paragua}?" and Crete have maintained in circum- 
stances vastly more unequal and adverse than those in which 
the Confederates contended for their independence. We 
cannot afford at the expense of history to gratif)' the vanity 
of the South, or even to console its mortification on defeat. 
If the plain truth is to be told, the South lost the contest, 
because of the moral desertion by her people of the cause 
they had espoused ; not from their physical prostration or 
actual destitution of means to continue the war. 

Unhappily as proofs of the moral delinquency in which 
the South surrendered, we have its behavior since the war. 
A great nation, who had lost a contest for its independence 
only through the accident of a power superior in material, 
would necessarily retain and cherish some of the resentments 
of the contest. But when we see almost the whole people of 
the South professing that they have retained absolutely noth- 
ing of the animosity of the war ; when we iind their news- 
papers actually representing as a merit that the Southern peo- 
})le feel precisely as if there had been no war, that they are 
ready to treat Northern men as their friends and brothers, 
that they have brought back their minds as blank pieces of 
paper to be inscribed with new lessons of love and duty to 
the Washington Government, we must be convinced that the 
South surrendered in the war as a moral delinquent, a con- 
scious culprit, and not as a brave nation giving way to a 
physical power, and yet retaining its honor in history. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 355 

How arc sucli displays of incliflerencc in the South concern- 
ing the past war consistent with the honorable regard 
of its own heroes in it, or even the tender memorv of its 
dead? But of these displays we design no remark here, ex- 
cept to apply tliem to the question whether the South surren- 
dered from a mere physical distress, or from a moral infirmity. 
Where a people contending for their liberty have been over- 
matched by force and yet retain the spirit of their cause as a 
moral sentiment — which they have a right to do — they may 
submit and not cow, they may forgive Avithout forgetting. 
The other alternative is of a people not bravely Avorn out in 
war, but surrendering from a broken spirit, a decayed cour- 
age. Their conduct following the contest easily shows in 
what condition they left it. How can we account but that 
the Soutli surrendered from an infirm spirit rather than from 
physical misfortune, when we find her people now professing 
to wash their hands of the war, to have forgotten all its pas- 
sions, to treat allusions to it with indifference, and receiving 
as the highest teachings of their politicians, that they should 
behave, speak and converse, as if no war had ever happened ! 
But our criticism of the causes of the surrender of the 
South must not outrun the course of our narrative. We 
have only referred to it here, and naturally, in vicAv of the 
amount of physical resources it displayed at the beginning of 
tlie last campaign of the war and of the just hopes which 
might have been inspired by that campaign, had the South 
retained to its close any thing of the former animation of the 
war. And that it did not retain such we refer constantly 
and inevitably to the maladministration of Mr. Davis. Even 
if the South surrendered at the last in a prostrate and de- 
praved spirit, and in view of the resources which we have 
enumerated as collected in the last year of the war, we do not 



356 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, "«'ITH A 

mention it as a disgrace of her people, but rather in unwilling 
mournful reflection upon a government that bv persistent 
misconduct and trifling had brought the spirit of the country 
to such a dishonorable pass. The best and bravest people 
may be demoralized by a bad government. The people of 
the South, whatever faults they had, were, as we have re- 
peated in these pages, a courageous and virtuous people sustain- 
ing a noble cause ; they had illustrated a martial virtue unex- 
celled in modern times ; they had proved that the age of 
chivalry was not extinct ; and if at the last we shall find them 
quitting the contest in evident disgust, and preferring the sin- 
gle pang of surrender to the useless and prolonged torture of 
the government of Jefferson Davis, it was not so much that 
their character had been changed by misfortune as that it 
had been corrupted by misrule and misuse. In all that there 
was of the decay of the resolution and devotion of the South, 
the black hand and the weak spirit of Mr. Davis are visible. 
Who can intelligently doubt that with a better direction and 
inspiration than tins man alTorded, that without his chilling- 
influence and mistakes, the strength whic-li the South devel- 
oped in the campaign of 1864, would have carried it to 
victory through the disturbance and hesitation of the North, 
especially in view of the fact which Ave shall hereafter see, 
that victory, despite all of Mr. Davis's former misgovernment 
hung in the balance until a single supreme stroke of his folly 
cut the cords and cast to the ground all that the South had 
thrown in the last scale of the war ! 

There was something remarkable of the campaign of 186-i 
in Virginia. It was the desperate, persistent, almost breath- 
less fury of its battles, as if both contestants were aware that 
they were struggling in the death-lock, and that their feet 
were on the brink of the fate of the war. Grant came to his 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 60t 

work with a nerve and directness which liad been found in no 
other Northern General. lie did not tumble back, as Burn- 
side had done from the hills of Fredericksburg, or lose his 
head as Hooker had done at Chancellorsville. He was evident- 
ly resolved to do more tlian fight one battle and then with- 
draw, after the fashion of former years. Now, he had the 
whole North at his back. He was furnished with an author- 
ity over the entire military force of his nation, never before 
possessed by any commander, unless that commander was an 
absolute sovereign in the field. On the other hand, Lee had 
made up his mind to fight with quick, decisive strokes, as if 
he knew the value of time in view of the enemy's accumula- 
tion of resources. There was none of the usual margin of 
strategems and delays. Neither side declined the contest 
until it had been fought to the doors of Richmond. When 
Grant, in the early days of May, first crossed the Rapidan, 
Lee did not hesitate a moment, but sprung upon his flank in 
the Wilderness with the leap of a tiger. Thence the way to 
Richmond was blazed by battles, and posted with monuments 
of carnage — a route of blood, a broad, red, macerating stripe 
across the wide hills where the mountains of Virginia de- 
scend to the plains. 

The summer campaign ended with Grant witliin sight of 
Richmond. The true situation was, that ho had reached a 
point, after the loss of nearly a hundred thousand lives, 
where, if he had moved by water, he might have arrived 
without the loss of a man ; where, on delivering a battle for 
Richmond (in attempting to cross the Chickahoininy), he was 
defeated in the space of ten minutes by the army he had hoped 
to drive into the capital ; and where he sustained such a de- 
feat as to deter him thereafter from direct attack, and to 
throw him back upon the resources of a slow and dastardly 



358 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

strategy. So far tlie situation was yet flxvorable for Richmond. 
A public meeting was called in New York to render the 
"thanks of the nation" to Grant for his victories on paper, 
the mere accomplishment of certain distances on the map ; 
but the same day gold was quoted in Wall street at 285 — 
about its maximum in the war — and the city of Richmond 
was quietly, without the ostentation of public assemblies, 
pa3dng a hearty gratitude to Lee, for the assurance he yet 
gave it of safet}', and was reposing on an undiminished con- 
fidence in his arms. 

On a just military calculation it was plain that Lee was 
better situated before Richmond than in the Wilderness or at 
Spottsylvania Court-liouse. His movement towards the 
capital was rendered necessary by the configuration of the 
soil and the lines of the rivers he had to defend ; the latter 
having their sources remote from the city, and emptying their 
waters in the neighboring York. He had gained manifest ad- 
vantages by each change of his lines. When he was on the 
Rapidan his stores and reinforcements had to be brought up 
from Richmond ; now they were nearer and more available. 
Grant had passed over a certain geographical space, without 
gaining any ground in a military sense. Had he passed down 
the lower Rappahannock, he might have come to the Piping- 
Tree, within eleven miles of Richmond, without an engage- 
ment with General Lee, or he might have come up the Penin- 
sula, perhaps to Pair Oaks, without firing a shot or losing a 
man. If he adopted the more circuitous course to invite 
battle, deliberately counting on " depletion," he could scarcely 
have calculated that even with his army of one hundred and 
fifty thousand men, the odds would have been overwhelming, 
when the issue came to be that of an open field against a forti- 
fied place. Napoleon declared as an axiom of war, that 



i 



I 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 359 

" fifty thousand National Guards, with three thousand gunners, 
will defend a fortified capital against an arni}'- of three hundred 
thousand men." Almost to the last days of the Confederacy, 
the army of Lee was nearly equal in numbers to, and greater 
in actual efficiency than those whom Napoleon assumed could 
hold their position against twice the force which at any time 
assailed Eichmond. There was no good reason, except that 
fatal one, sufficient to explain every catastrophe — demoraliza- 
tion — why General Lee should not have held Eichmond and 
Petersburg against any number which- the enem}^, within 
the limits of his physical resources, could bring against them. 
The government of Mr. Davis was not yet alarmed. It had 
no reason to be alarmed except for the chances of its own 
mistakes. Nobody in Eichmond was alarmed — not even so 
much as when McClellan, in 1862, had displayed his stand- 
ards on the banks of the Chickahominy. There was the 
same recklessness of vice in this city that it had displayed so 
early in the war, and that had pointed it out as the centre of 
all the crime and iniquity in the South. There were the same 
"faro banks," on Main and other streets, with numbers painted 
in large gilt figures over the door, and illuminated at night; 
the same flashily dressed young men with villainous faces, 
who hung about the street corners during the day, and were 
gamblers, garroters and plugs at night: the same able-bodied, 
red-faced and brawny individuals who mixed bad liquors in 
the bar-rooms, and who held exemptions from military duty 
as consumptive invalids, or for some reason had been recom- 
mended by the Surgeon-General to keep in cheerful company \ 
and take gentle exercise ; the same men who frequented •> 
the innumerable bar-rooms, paying five dollars for a drink 
of the bad liquors, and who, mistaken for men of fortune, 
happened to be out-door patients of hospitals, with a daily 



860 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

allowance for stimulants, or government clerks on salaries, 
the monthly amounts of which, would not pay for a single 
night's carousal. The society of Eichmoud was given over 
to unabashed vice and revehy, to continue thus until the 
partial doom of Sodom should overtake it. The filthy and 
accursed citv was indeed a commentary on the administration 
of Mr. Davis; for that he should have made of his capital 
such a place indicates his own unworthiness, and, no matter 
what local or particular excuses are made, men will think 
how weak and bad must have been the government, immedi- 
ately around which the moral atmosphere was so impure. It 
has often been boasted of Eichmond, that it never lost its 
confidence during the war ; but we must confess that much 
of this confidence was a vile recklessness that lived in the 
twenty-four hours, not all the serious and manly faith which 
calculates the morrow, and reposes on its superiority to 
fortune. To the last vice kept open doors in Eichmond. 
For the present it had taken out a new lease of its abodes, as 
it supposed itself secured by the immediate presence of Lee's 
army, and confidently expected for Grant, the sequel of 
McClellan. 

Mr. Davis, himself, was not an immoral man. However, 
in midsummer of 1864, there were curious stories about the 
President's household, and the money that was squandered 
by the luxurious tastes of his wife, aud her excessive love 
of display. In secret session of Congress, there were com- 
plaints that the President did not live as democratically 
as he might, or should ; and one member was bold enough to 
mention the incident that a large sum had been diverted 
from the Treasury to cover the expense of transporting, in 
box cars, all the way from Mississippi, the splendid horses 
which ]\[rs. Davis displayed on Main street, while the whole 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY, 361 

South was groaning- in poverty. A joint resolution was 
wliirled through Congress with extraordinary ahicrit}', giving 
additional ctunpensatiou and emolument to Mr. Davis, under 
the name of "lights and fuel for the Presidential mansion," 
and lorage in the Presidential stables for four horses during 
the "rt'ar. But notwithstanding the supplies of mone}', of 
whieh his wile gave evidence in various ostentation, there 
was bur little social bounty in the President's household. 
He gave but few entertaiimients, and even his occasional 
"receptions" were neglected b}' the best people in Richmond. 
There were no instances of elegant hospitality, no example? 
oi' those refmements which a President is supposed to give to 
the manners and society of his capital. Thus, although Mr. 
Davis was much above most of the vices in Richmond, it is 
yet remarkable -what little correction he administered to 
them, and what a listless observer he was of the social cor- 
ruptio)\ that besieged the very doors of his mansion. The 
worst that can be said of him in this connection is, that he 
gave none of those examples of decorous social life which 
the President of a republic is supposed to impart, at least, 
within the limits of his capital, where he is as much the 
censor of manners as he is the ruler of public alYairs. 

When Grant's army approached Richmond, Mr. Davis was 
in better health and in better spirits than he had yet been 
during the war. lie had recovered from his neuralgia ; he 
was healthy and frivolous. ^Ve have described the inner 
life of Richmond about this time as indicative of the little 
impression Grant's approach made upon it — although, as we 
have slightly and incidentally seen, it is interesting in other 
respects. The sounds of hostile cannon fell unheeded on the 
ears of revellers. Not t'or a day did Mr. Davis change the 
unpopular routine of his household, abate the luxury of his 



OlV2 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

table, or his allowauco of Havana cigars, or neglect, weather 
permitting, his easy evening ride on his shabby grey horse, 
while his more pretentious wile gathered on tlio wheels of 
her equipage the dust through which Lee's barefoot soldiers 
miirht have trudo-ed an hour before. In this inditVerence in 
Eichmond, there is much that is unpleasant, much that is the 
subject of detraction : but we have exhibited it in its most 
excessive phases to show how little alfected Mr. Pavis and 
the population around him were by Grant's array in front of 
them, and to suggest that while part of this indiiVerence was 
only bad and reckless, yet another part must have lu'oceeded 
from a common popular confidence in the Avar. Arhen a Avhole 
community is found involved in so great a neglect of danger. 

" If," exclaimed a jo^'ous Richmond editor, " those highly 
excited official circles of Washington, and delighted news- 
paper readers of New York and Boston, could but see the 
tranquil serenity of these embowered streets at this day ; 
how peacefully our people go about their daily business; 
how quietlv they buy and sell, or even marry and are given 
in marriage ;"" but the same writer fatally added, finishing 
his period of exclamation, unconscious o[^ the significance: 
" as in the daT/ tvlum Noah entered the ark r 

Among the people o^ the country as compared with those 
iu the capital the confidence in the war was much healthier. 
Through the South, be3^ond Eichmond, the dirty patch of 
the Confederacy, there was an increased alacrity to contribute 
to the war, more willingness to bear its burdens in the prospect 
of a speedy peace, and some hope of improvement in the ad- 
ministration of ^Ir. Pavis. The people had recovered much of 
their former animation ; they ngain showed exanq^les o\' readi- 
ness, of fortitude, and of noble sacrifices ; it appeared that they 
had taken ne\\' resolution, and had determined to strain every 



.vVfK 



SKCIRKT llISTt)UV OF TinO CONFKDKKACY. Ji63 

nerve in what tliey supi)osed to bo the last stadium of tlie 
wai'. In every period of the contest there was a i-eniarkable 
contrast between the licentiousness of the capil;!! o!' the (\n\- 
fedcraey and tlie hardy and virtuous siniplioy of tlu^ counti'y 
j)Cople. It was never illustrateil nu)re strongly tlian in the 
times of which we write. The South generally was aroused 
to a new and suslaincd i>lVoi't, lor independonce, and the 
evidences of this resolution wore to be found in \]\r. sim- 
plicity and industry of almost every household at a distance 
from Richmond. 

A Southern lady has thus gra]diically desei-ibed the in- 
terior o\' th(\se rnslit; and virluous houu>s : — " We Avere 
carried battk to the times i)f our grandniothei's. Our women 
Avere actively interested in discovering the coloring proper- 
ties ol" roots, barks, and berries, and e\pcn-in\(!nling with 
alum, eopi)tM'as, soda, and other a:lka,lies and miui^'al mor- 
dants in dyeing cotton and wool for donmstic. manufieture. 
On approaching a countrv house rathei' lat(\, tlu^ i^ar would 
be greeted, not with the sound of the piano oi- the Spanish 
guitar, but with tlu> hum of the spinning-wlu;el brought mit 
from tlii> hiding-place to wlnrh it had been driven before tlu^ 
triumph of mechanic:al skill; and^the '' bang-ba,ug " of tlu^ old- 
'[^ fashiont'd and long-disused loom, ^flie wln'reabouts of ihe 
mistress of ih- mansion might be infeiTcd IVom ihe place 
whence the ."ound proceeded ; for she was probably herself 
engaged in, or superintending the work of a servant in the 
Aveaving or s]>inning-i'oom. It was beautiful to Avatch the 
snowy cotton and wool drawn out from tlie lleecy roll into 
long threads, and Avound np so dexterously on the spindle. 
It was delightful to Avatch the magic shuttle shoot to and fro 
undt'r tln^ threads oi' t\\o. warp, and to hear ihe strange music 
of the almost obsolete loom, and to see the stout fabric groAV 



36-i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

under ingenious hands. With commendable pride we beheld 
the Southern gentleman clad in the comfortable homespun 
suit, and our ladies wearing domestic dresses that challenged 
comparison with the plaids and merinos of commercial manu- 
facture." 

From the pictures we have given of the South, both of its 
capital and country in the summer months of lSl34. the 
reader will conclude how much more cheerful and assured ha'i 
become the prospect of the war, and how improved was the 
spirit of the Confederacy in view of it. In every direction 
the armies of the North bad been brought to a dead halt ; 
hope had sprung again in the heart of the Confederacy : the 
sources of political weakness in the North were being multi- 
plied ; a prospect of peace was on the horizon, its rumors in 
tlie air. The strained nerve of the South, its beating heart, 
its sincAYS thrown to the surface, told of the last lock of the 
contest, that final match of strength and courage in which it 
alreadv held the adversary in its arms and appeared about to 
trip his uncertain foothold. 



STCCRtIT HISTOllY OF THE CONFKDKUACY. 3(35 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Sitimtion at Atlaiitii, Goorsiii, iiuiro'VavorabU' lliaii tlial ul Kicliiiioinl — .TolmstDn's Rptroat, 
the Mastoriuoco of llis Military Life— Its Iiiciiloiits, ami its Tiiiiinph ovor Slu-iniaii— Tlio 
Military CoiuUtion of tlio Soutli ono of Biilliant Promise — ThoConroiIonu^y liail uow to Accom- 
plish only "Negative" llcsults — Mr. Davis's Trivate Corrosi)Oiulciits in the Cliioago Conven- 
tion — Secrets of " the Presidential Kureau of Corrospoudonco" — A Kemuvkable Article in the 
Now York Tritmne — Compositions and Designs of the Peace Party in the North — Bold Declara- 
tion of the Now York ^^'orhl — The Northern Democratic Party Looking to Kichmond rather 
than to Washington— Itow Much Depended on the Prudence of Mr. Davis — Uow Ilia Course 
should have been Shaped in such a Crisis — General Johnston liusy at Atlanta — An Opportunity 
to Operate iu Sherman's Rear — A Conversation of General Johnston and Senator Wigfall — 
An Urgent Application to President Davis, to Transfer Forrest's Cavalry to Sherman's Hear — 
Important and Critical Nature of this Enterprise — Soi\ator Hill Undertakes a Mission to the 
President — lie "Goes Back" upon Johnston — A Special Messenger Sent to Richmond — Anec- 
dote of Mrs. Davis and a Washerwoman — Order Removing Johnston from Command, the 
Death- Warrant of the Confederacy — Secret History of this Order— The Fruit of an Intrigue in 
Richmond- The Part Played by General Bragg — Underhanded Correspondence of Mr. Davis 
with General Hood — The Latter Described by General Sherman and a Richmond Wit — Demora- 
lizing and Terrible Consequences of the Rcmovnl of Johnston — "The Beginning of the End '" — 
Reflection on the Narrow Chances which make History — ISitter Remarks of a Richmond 
Journalist. 

We have described the situutiou at KichinoiuL Its cor- 
respondent on the other side of the Alleghanies — the situa- 
tion at Athanta, Georgia — was even more favorable. General 
Johnston held Atlanta more securely than Lee did Kichmond. 
We have already said something of the military character of 
the former. His opportunities of distinguishing himself had 
not been so great and prolonged as those of Lee ; but. however 
various might be the popular criticism of him, or however 
cold and envious might be the regards of Mr. Davis, it could 
not be said of him that ho ever lost an army, or any con- 
siderable body of troops, or incurred any disaster, or even 



oOO LIFE OF JEl-FEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

disadvantage that obscured the prospects of the Conteder- 
acy for a nioinent. 

General Johnston was now executing the masterpiece of 
his militarv life. He had fought down, to Atlanta with far 
more success and brilliancy than Lee had fought down to 
Eichmond, with more incidents of advantage, and to greatly 
better eft'ect. His retrograde from Dalton to Atlanta has 
been described as a future study in military schools, and as 
exact as a figure in geometry — his plan of campaign being 
the avoidance of pitched battles and the substitution of flank 
movements, interspersed with actions between detachments 
and sometimes rising to a general engagement. lie had per- 
formed the wonder of conducting an army in retreat through 
nearl}^ one hundred and fifty miles of intricate country, abso- 
lutely without any loss in material or prisoners ; he had 
brought along every thing, every gun, every wagon, every 
camp-kettle ; he had inflicted a loss upon the enemy of forty- 
five thousand men, more than four times his own ; and in 
pnr.-;uance of his plan of reducing the numerical superiority 
of Sherman's army so as "to cope with it on equal ground 
by the time the Chattahoochee was passed," he had now that 
army south of the stream where its defeat would be inevitably 
its destruction, and where, on the other hand, the Confede- 
rates would have a place of refuge in Atlanta which their 
commander, writing officially to Eichmond had described as 
"too strong to be assaulted and too extensive to be invested." 
Never was any situation of the war so advantageous for the 
Confederates, and so critical and tremulous for the enemy, 
unable, as he was, to go farther, brought to a place which he 
dared not to assault, and which he was unable to invest and 
suspended one hundred and forty miles in a hostile country 
by a single line of connnunication. The fears of the giddy 



SECUKT IllSrOliV OK 'IMIK CON' l''K DIOUACV. 367 

cnciny were excessive, ;il most, to (leiiioraliziition ; Uio assur- 
ances of Johnston were as perfect as liunuin roresi;:^lit could 
make tlicm. We repeat that his ])ositiou in AthmLa was 
more sccui'e than that of Lee in Kiclunond. dvul^^in^' pi'os- 
pi'ctive by past events, it was impossible; to doubt lliaL lie 
would ha,vo licid ShciMiiau as \V(;ll as Lee licld ( i ia.nl. lie 
could at least liav(; done this; and it was probable lie would 
have done nun-c, Ibr if lie ha,d succeeded in destroying Sher- 
man's line of land (U)imuunieaiioii, wliie,h was obviously easier 
to reach than that of Grant over water, he might have forced 
his enemy to a retreat, in which surrender or annihilation 
would be tlie choice. 

No wonder that the heart of the Confederacy was (dated, 
and that the tiptoe of expectation was the attitude of the most 
intelligent. The campaign of 18G4 found the two l)est men 
in i-eal coiuiuand and in the two ])rinci[)al positions — Lee in 
Virgini;i, Johnston in (Jeorgia. ^Flie military condition oCllu; 
country was, as we have seen, in various respects nevcj- so 
prosperous as it was at midsummer; for these two great com- 
manders had so done their work that it was then moi'ally cer- 
tain that the last su[u-emo efl'ort of the enemy was going to 
fail; and failing it was impossible to doubt that the year 
would be the last of the war, and would terminate in the pro- 
claimed independence of the Conlederaey. 

IMie (piestiou oi' j)eace already ti'endtled on tin- balance in 
the North, and the number of rumoi's concernin<>' it show how 
busily employed was the public mind with the ])rospect of an 
early termination of the war, and how eager it was to antici- 
pate it. So equally had parties come to be divitleil in the 
North, when the Chicago Convention nominated ALcClellan 
for President, that the entire Democratic jjarty was bold 
enough to declare, in (he most deliber-ate manner, that the 



368 LIFE OF JEFFERSON" PAVIS, WITH A 

wai' was a ''railiire." Scarcely any Noi-tlu'vii man of any 
political itcrsuasion, outside of fanaticism, doubted that if 
Jolinstou defeated Sherman, or tliat if he even heUl his own — 
in short, that if the South accomplished mere negative results, 
in holding Eichmond and Atlanta — the peace party whicli 
was at this time the whole Democratic party, would come 
into power, turn the war into a Convention of States, and de- 
cide tliere the claims of the South, wlneh. it was a foregone 
conclusion, and a logical necessity, eould not be less than 
independence. Mr. Davis could not fail to }Ku-ceive tlie sig- 
nificance of the Chicago Convention, and Avas certainly in- 
telligent euougli to understand the coutlition of parties in the 
North. He had private correspondents in that Convention. 
Indeed it is well known tluit during tlie entire war, Mr. Davis 
maintained secret communications with many distinguislied 
'Northern politicians, generally tliose of the Democratic |.)art3\ 
The letters and documents he received from them were so 
numerous that the}' were kept in a special, pri\'ate arehi\-e, 
entitled the Presidential Bureau of Correspondence. These 
confidences were kept from Congress, and even from his 
Cabinet; few persons in Richmond ever knew of the exis- 
tence of such a bureau; no curiosity was ever admitted to its 
papers ; and so anxious Avas Mr. Davis to conceal them tluit it 
is a curious fact that, some days before the surrender of Rich- 
)nond, he had them conveyed to a secret place, where they 
are yet supposed to be safely deposited. In this "under- 
ground " correspondence Mr. Davis had been well informed 
of the Chicago Convention; that "it meant peace for the 
North and independence for the South," as a distinguished 
gentleman of New England wrote him, and that all there was 
of doubt of the success of the Chicago nominees depended on 
the success of his own administration at Richmond, and that 



SECRET IITSTOP.Y OF THE CONFEDERACY, 309 

the Democratic party of the Nortli wa;s held in tlic liollow of 
liis hand. 

But as to tlio real desire for peace in the North, wliich liad 
now divided it nearly by halves, Mr. ]Javis did not need to 
look to evidences in his Presidential Bureau ; he might have 
learned it in the newspapers and common publications of the 
day. It was deeply significant that the question of peace 
was no longer discussed in tlie North in wary whispers, and 
under the shadow of the danger of an accusation ; it was no 
longer the discovery of eavesdroppers and the pursuit of spies — 
not even the subject of a clamor for " disloyalty," It had become 
a topic of bold, open argument; it was on the unfaltering and 
multiplied tongues of the press; it was spoken of without 
disguise, and without abatement. Nor was it any longer the 
stinted thought of any particular political party. Some of 
the best men of the liepublican party raised their voices for 
peace; they joined the Democrats, as if in a sentiment of a 
general nature, but where they must have known, as well as 
they, the logical conser|uence of this sentiment in the inde- 
pendence of the South, as tlie one condition of peace, and 
where to fall back from such conclusion, or to attempt to 
flaidc it by circumlocution, could only have been an afl'ectation 
to cheat the public, or to console their own consciences. It 
was not without some surprise that the people of the South 
read in such a paper as the New York Tribune: — "We feel 
certain that two-thirds of the American people on either side 
of the dividing line anxiously, absorbingly, desire peace; and 
are ready to make all needful sacrifices to secure it. Then 
why shall it be long withheld. Let us know, as soon as may 
be, the most that the rebel chiefs will do to secure peace; let 
us know what is the 'ultimatum' on our side." Almost in 
the same breath of tlie New York Press, the World gave a 
24 



870 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

practical expression to a purpose which Mr. Greeley had 
been content to leave in the vagueness of a sentimental 
appeal. It furnished the true exposition of the Chicago Con- 
vention. It said : " The new President, to be nominated at 
Chicago, and elected in November, must be a man ready and 
willing to meet any and every overture for peace, a man who 
shall represent truly the dignity and power of the nation, and 
who will not be unwilling even to tender an armistice, and 
suggest a National Convention of all the States." 

Such signs of public sentiment in the North could not 
have been lost on Mr. Davis. He must have known how 
near the Confederacy was to peace and independence, the con- 
summation of its hopes. lie must have understood what his 
New England correspondent advised : that the Democratic 
party of the North had for the time turned its attention from 
what was taking place at Washington, to fix it upon the ad- 
ministration at Kichmond, and that upon its wisdom now 
singly depended the condition of parties in the North, and 
the ultimate question of peace. The Democratic party asked 
Jefferson Davis rather than its own leaders to sustain it. 
Eichraond and Atlanta were its arguments, and it looked to 
Mr. Davis to preserve their force. It only asked that the 
Confederacy should for a few months hold its own, and that 
Mr. Davis should not interrupt or imperil the existing state 
of affiiirs by any act of imprudence. Scarcely ever did a 
single man control issues so vast and critical. It was a con- 
dition which required the utmost delicacy, the utmost pru- 
dence ; a condition in which rather the status quo was to 
be maintained than new experiments to be hazarded — much 
less changes to be made originating in caprice. Mr. Davis 
stood near the boundary of peace; he had only to fold his 
arms, only to wait on Lee and Johnston. But unhappily he 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 371 

was one of those men whom the consciousness of power 
makes pragmatical, who are never satisfied to accept events 
without the appearance of controlling them, and who, from 
vanity rather than impatience, had much rather risk taking 
fortune by assault, than to wait for it in unconspicuous cir- 
cumstances, and in wise obscurity. 

Meanwhile, General Johnston, never looking aside to any 
political complications in the war, was giving a characteristi- 
cally single and severe attention to his purely military work. 
He was steadily devoting himself to the defences of Atlanta ; 
heavy rifled cannon were brought up from Mobile and 
planted on its ramparts ; a large number of negroes were 
employed on its earthworks ; and the militia of Georgia were 
being assembled to garrison Atlanta, which Sherman now 
dared not to approach, and could not approach, without risk- 
ing an attack of Johnston's whole army on his most exposed 
flank. 

One other movement now only remained to complete the 
discomfiture of the enemy. It was plain and inviting ; and 
it seemed indeed as if all events had been marshalled in 
favor of Johnston. The defeat by Forrest's cavalry in north- 
ern Mississippi of an expedition of the enemy under Sturgis 
designed to protect and operate in Sherman's rear, left that 
rear uncovered, and presented the spectacle of an enemy a 
hundred and forty miles in the interior of Georgia, holding 
a single line of communication which might be easily de- 
stroyed by cavalry. General Johnston at once dispatched to 
Eichmond a request that Forrest's cavalry might be trans- 
ferred from Mississippi, where it was then roving as an inde- 
pendent command, representing that if it got on Sherman's 
line, it could destroy it beyond the possibility of further use, 
-He did not doubt that the government Avould at once see an 



372 LIFE OF JP:FFERS0N DAVIS, WITH A 

opportunity so plain and splendid ; he was in the highest 
spirits from all his prospects of advantage in the campaign ; 
he sup[)osed that what he had done was appreciated at Rich- 
mond, and that what he proposed would now be ordered 
with alacrity. To his infinite surprise and alarm, he re- 
ceived an order from Richmond denying his request and 
prohibiting him from any command of Forrest's cavalry to 
move it to the rear of Sherman. 

At this time Senator Wigfall happened to be in Georgia. 
General Johnston, surprised at the singular treatment he had 
received from President Davis, knowing nothing of what 
was taking place in Richmond to discredit him, invited Mr. 
Wigfall to visit his camp, and in an earnest conversation en- 
treated that Senator to hasten back to the capital, and to use 
all possible influence to prevail upon Mr. Davis to transfer 
Forrest to Georgia. He explained the great importance of 
such a movement. He disclaimed any desire to repair Mr. 
Davis's confidence in himself or to conciliate him personally ; 
he was careless of injustice to himself; he was only deeply 
hurt that any opportunity for the good of the country should 
be neglected through a personal dislike of him by the Presi- 
dent, a dislike which he considered himself unfortunate to 
have incurred, and to which he would not be made a party 
in any recrimination or protest further than the interests of 
the public service to which he was attached demanded. He 
spoke with his usual magnanimity, and in noble and toucli- 
ing terms. Mr. Wigfall grimly replied that the President 
had as little love for himself as for Johnston. He explained 
that his intermediation would only injure the cause for 
which he was invoked to act, and he therefore declined tlie 
mission. 

Mr. Wiofall was on bad terms with B. H. Hill, Senator 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 6t6 

from Georgia ; but lie knew him to be an obsequious politi- 
cian and, to some extent, a favorite of Mr. Davis, Avcll-quali- 
fied to influence the President by his adroit servility, and to 
exercise an influence over him denied to wiser and purer 
counsellors. In the inspiration of his conversation with 
Johnston, the Senator from Texas was willing to lay aside 
his private feelings, and to use a medium to which he was 
personally averse to accomplish a public benefit. He sug- 
gested B. ri. Hill for the mission to Kichmond. The sugges- 
tion was adopted; Mr. Hill was called into council with 
Johnston and some of his corps commanders ; the clear- 
headed General submitted to him all his plans, assured him of 
the safety of Atlanta, poirited out the opportunity of opera- 
ting on Sherman's rear ; and at the close of the conference, the 
Senator expressed himself as fully satisfied with all that 
Johnston proposed and requested. He left with the promise 
warmly expressed that he would go at once to Richmond 
and use all the influence he had or could assemble to per- 
suade the President to sustain General Johnston, and especi- 
ally to give him command of Forrest's cavalry for the criti- 
cal operation he designed. 

The promise was never kept. The confidence with Gen- 
eral Johnston was not only violated but betrayed. Senator 
Hill went to Eichmond ; but the gossip was that he " went 
back" upon Johnston, and joined his enemies and detrac- 
tors who he found had secured the ear of Mr. Davis. The 
fact may be that Senator Hill was at first sincere in what he 
had undertaken in behalf of an injured General, but that 
coming to Richmond, he found the President so impatient of 
any thing said in favor of Johnston, and so well-disposed 
towards those who brought him any tale to the discredit of 
this commander, that, weak and servile as he was, a man 



874 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

always more anxious to court favor for himself tlian for 
olherS; lie was easily led away from liis first intentions and 
by another step of descent in sincerity was involved in the in- 
trigue which he found busy in Richmond to depose Johnston, 
and to make a pretext on which Mr. Davis might gratify the 
malice he had nursed against this great and good commander. 
Whatever the explanation, it is certain that Senator Hill, a 
short time after reaching E-ichmond, was active in the in- 
trio-ue referred to ; that he circulated stories to alarm the 
more foolish of the public for the safety of Atlanta ; that he 
was in frequent conversation with General Bragg, whom the 
President Lad, previous to this occasion, sent as a well-dis- 
guised spy into Johnston's camp ; and that he was in corres- 
pondence with one of the corps commanders of the Army 
of Tennessee whom Mr. Davis had already designated as one 
of his favorites. 

General Johnston was ignorant of this intrigue. He 
anxiously awaited at Atlanta, the result of Hill's mission, the 
signal for action ; and while day after day he suffered dis- 
appointment, he yet busied himself adding to the defences 
of Atlanta, assured that even at the worst he might expect 
from Mr. Davis's temper, he could yet defy and wear out the 
enemy, although enviously denied and robbed of the opportu- 
nity of finishing his work with a conspicuous victory. Hear- 
ing nothing from Hill, he was yet resolved to leave no means 
unemployed to operate on the mind of the President. He 
sent a special messenger to Richmond, furnished with full 
and detailed dispatches, which were to be submitted to the 
President at the earliest possible moment. For two weeks 
this messenger unsuccessfully sought an audience of Mr. 
Davis. Trifles, especially in weak governments, sometimes 
2'overn 2:reat events. An anecdote obtained circulation in 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 875 

Richmond that the President could not see Johnston's messen- 
ger, because he was over-busy with an aftair of Mrs. Davis, 
she having quarelled with a laundress in one of the hospitals 
who had formerly been discharged from her service as a 
waiting- woman ; that there was a deficiency of eleven (hilars 
in the monthly hospital account of the laundress, and that 
Mrs. Davis was moving President, Cabinet, and all sources 
of authority to have the woman punished, giving the first 
but little time to attend to the cares of State, until he had ap- 
peased the clamor in his household. It was a story, perhaps, 
told for amusement, and designed as a caricature of those 
anecdotes which serve as popular illustrations of famous 
persons, which would be excessively absurd if they were not 
obviously characteristic, and which, if not true, yet deserve 
in a measure to be true. 

On the 17th day of July, General Johnston was standing 
on the fortification of Atlanta, conversing with his chief 
engineer. A dispatch was handed to him ; there were no 
marks of importance upon it ; he read it without a change of 
countenance. It was an order removing him, from the coramand 
of the army; brief, decisive; he should "immediately turn 
over the command of the army and department of Tennessee 
to General Hood." 

It was a day never to be forgotten, for it contained the 
doom of the South. On the slight piece of paper that John- 
ston read silently, looking over the great army that he had 
hoped to lead to victory, that had been his pride, and joy> 
glory, and that, standing upon the ramparts, he now saw, for 
the last time, stretched before him, there was written not 
only his removal, not only this of cruel and sneering brevity 
to himself, but the sentence that murdered tens of thousands of 
brave soldiers, the message of greatest joy and encouragement 
to the enemy, the death-warrant of the Southern Confederacy. 



876 LIFE OF JEFFEESON DAVIS, WITH A 

Wliy did Mr. Davis remove General Jolmston ? The 
pretence put before tlie public was, that this comuiaudcr had 
not expressed sufficient confidence of his ability to liold 
Atlanta ; while the fact was that Johnston, properly resenting 
the pragmatism of the President, and annoyed by the fire of 
cross questions from the War Department, at Richmond, had 
simply been cold and reluctant in his replies, instead of being- 
fulsome, as a weak General might have been, in such circum- 
stances ; and when at hist removed, he made the neat and 
cutting reply to the .Secretary of War: — "Confident language 
by a military commander is not usually regarded as evidence 
of incompetency." He did right not to commit himself to an 
inquisition by which there is reason to believe Mr. Davis 
designed to entrap him. The latter could have really had no 
doubt as to Johnston's determination and spirit to hold 
Atlanta, for the evidence of these was his daily employment 
in strengthening its defences; and the fact was that his family 
was remaining in the town at the time he was removed. Kot 
a single charge of disaster incurred, or opportunity omitted, 
could be brought against this wise and ready commander. It 
is especially remarkable that while the retrograde of Lee from 
the Rapidan to Richmond had had the eftect of adding to his 
reputation, and had been adorned with the thanks of Mr. 
Davis and his Congress, the correspondent movement of 
Johnston, in Georgia, attended, as we have seen, with more 
success, and ending in better advantages, slu)uld have excited 
the ire of the President, and should have been used to raise 
a clamor as against a shameful and disastrous defeat.* 

* The following is from a private letter of General Johnston, not 
intended for publication, but due to history : — "After his experience 
in the Wilderness, General Lee adopted as thorough a defensive as 
mine, and added by it to his great fame. The only other diUbrcnce 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 377 

The true history of Johnston's removal is yet to be written. 
It is already discovered, as far as evidence can make it plain, 
that an intrigue to remove him was commenced in Richmond, 
at the time he first moved from Dalton, at the very com- 
mencement of the campaign, and that Mr. Davis only awaited 
a convenient opportunity and an available pretext to put his 
sinister design in execution. The fact was that the appoint- 
ment of Johnston to the Army of Tennessee had been wrung 
from Mr. Davis by a public sentiment Avhich bad compelled 
him to make a show of obedience to it ; and he was resolved 
to find the earliest pretence to get rid of an appointment 
which he had made so unwillingly, which had offended his 
vanity, and which, as the triumph of a rival in the affections 
of the people — one innocently so — rankled in his heart. He 
had been compelled to remove his favorite General Bragg — • 
the commander who had, on the 1st of January, 1863, dis- 
patched from the field of Murfreesboro, " God has given us a 
happy New Year," and who, at the close of this year, had 
been driven through the length of Tennessee, had been forced 
from the mountain-barrier of Georgia, and yet clung to the 
command of an army which not only distrusted, but despised 
him. Bragg was displaced for Johnston. But the former was 
consoled Ijy the sinecure but sonorous appointment of " mili- 
tary adviser," at Richmond, a sort of ornamental generalis- 
simo which made the Examiner exclaim : — " We are driving 
the red battle car and not a gilded coach, with room enough 

between our operations, was due to General Grant's bull-headedness 
and Sherman's extreme caution, which carried tlie armies in Vir- 
ginia to Petersburg in less than half the time in which Sherman 
reached Atlanta. From our relative losses, I might have expected 
to be very soon stronger than Sherman. His army beaten on the 
east of the Chattahoochee, might have been destroyed." 



878 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, TTITH A 

on tlie foot-board for uniformed chasseurs with marshals' 
batons. Cut behind. We are driving artillery into the 
fio-ht." 

But Bragg was used not altogether for ornament. He was 
a great and useful part of the intrigue against Johnston. He 
was employed by the President to visit Johnston in the lines 
around Atlanta ; he was cordially received by this comman- 
der: and he s'ave no intimation that his visit was of an official 
nature. He observed that some of the public workshops had 
been removed, and that there were no large supplies deposited 
in the town — circumstances no more significant than sending 
the wagons of an army to the rear on a day of battle ; and he 
hurried back to Mr. Davis to furnish him a pretence on which 
he might act as he desired, in the report that Atlanta was 
about to be evacuated ! Another party to the intrigue, and 
who was in communication with Bragg and the President, 
was General Hood himself, who, there is reason to believe, had 
been designated as the successor of Johnston while his army 
was yet in motion from Dalton. We have heretofore referred 
to a bad practice of Mr. Davis in holding underhanded secret 
correspondence Avith subordinate commanders in the field, so 
as to diminish the authority of the General in command, and 
to hold the latter under a disreputable surveillance. He had 
done so with Pemberton. And we must suppose that he had 
done so with Hood. For how else is it possible to explain 
the evidence that the latter had written a private letter, since 
divulged in some circles, while on the retreat from Dalton, 
that he expected soon to be raised to the chief command of 
the army ; that he, generally so ready for a fight, had so 
stoutly resisted General Johnston's first proposition to give 
battle on the Etowah river, and was apparently so well 
pleased with the continuation of his retreat to Atlanta ; and 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 879 

that When at last the removal of Johnston and his own ap- 
jiointment reached there, and when the whole army was struck 
with wonder or convulsed with indignation, he alone, of fifty 
tliousand men, received it without suri)rise; and that in his 
readiness to take command, he neglected even the compliments, 
if we may not say civilities, which custom required to the re- 
tiring General. 

The news of General Johnston's removal fell upon the ears 
of his army like a clap of thunder from clear skies. When 
Sherman heard of it, he was radiant and jocose ; and one of 
his staff- officers tells of his making a motion with the thumb 
of one hand around the forefinger of the other, as if already 
wrapping around it the weak and maimed commander who 
had displaced his old and tried antagonist. The man whom 
the folly of Mr. Davis had raised to the command of a great 
army, ]iot less numerous than that with which General Lee 
had fought the campaign of the Eapidan, was described by 
one of the wits of Richmond as having " a lion's heart and a 
wooden head." Courage was cheap in the army of Tennessee ; 
and in the constitution and temper of Confederate troops, the 
wise General was much to be preferred to the pugnacious 
one. General Johnston had obtained the admiration and 
affection of his troops ; but what is more, as the foundation of 
all discipline and efficiency in armies, their steady confidence. 
His removal chilled and blasted the spirit of the army, which 
for months he had cultivated and trained; it sowed in a single 
day the South broadcast with the seeds of distrust ; it pro- 
duced fruits such as inconsequence, folly, and subserviency, 
never produced before. If Mr. Davis could have heard the 
rumors which filled the camps of the Army of Tennessee when 
it was known that their trusted and beloved commander was 
to be taken from them ; if he could have been sensible of the 



830 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

expressions of anger and discontent Avliicli traversed the 
country as fast as tlie telegraph carried the news of this hist 
id-tempered and id-timed freak of the Executive; if he could 
have observed the rejoicings in Washington, and the dismay of 
every Northern friend of the Confederacy, at this unexpected 
and inconsequent foll}^, he might possibly have idealized the 
terrible extent of the disaster he had done by a single stroke 
of his pen. In one day, in one capricious moment, he had 
struck down the prospect which, in the midsummer of 186-i, 
had held the South in expectation of an early peace. He had 
signed an order, unconsciously we may believe, but recklessly 
we must declare, for the general and final ruin of his country. 
It was " the beginning of the end," the first of the train of 
events that led distinctly to the final catastrophe, the explo- 
sion of the Confederacy. 

In history we are often grieved and tantalized at the narrow 
chances on which are determined the most important events. 
We say to ourselves, if such and such things had not been so, 
if there had been another adjustment of mere circumstances, 
a great disaster might have been averted, or a good cause 
might have been saved. It is a common emotion in those 
who study the order of events. But, in the case referred to, 
of the one act of Mr. Davis that visibly and immediately 
turned the balance ot the war, there is added to such dis- 
pleasure of the reader as comes from an unexpected alteration 
of history, a feeling of irritation ; since such alteration was not 
the effect of an accident, but of a voluntary, deliberate act, 
which should have foreseen its consequences, and which, too, 
originated in the worst motives of the human heart, conceived 
in malice, matured by fraud, and executed by stealth. 

"We must," said a Eichmond journalist, "think of these 
things, for these are the causes which produce the effects. It 



SKCRET HISTORY OF THK CONFEDERACY. 381 

is manifestly absurd to put up and pull down a commander 
in the field according to the crude views or pcevisli fancies of 
a functior.ary in Richmond. Such conduct of a government 
would paraly/e t]ie greatest military genius, ruin the oldest 
army, and render success in war absolutely impossible. Now 
is it not hard, is it not cruelly hard, that the struggle of eight 
millions, who sacrilico their lives, sacrifice their money, who 
groan in the excess of exertion, who wrench every muscle till 
the blood starts with the sweat — should come to naught — 
should end in the ruin of us all — in order that the predilec- 
tions and antipathies, the pitiful personal feelings of a single 
man may be indulged ?" 



)82 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Mr. Davis's Wca of a " Fighting General "— Hood's Battles and Mistakes— Fall of Atlanta— A 
Powerful Appeal to Mr. Davis to Kestore Johnston to Command — Anecdote of Mr. Davis and 
Ilis Physician — Demoralization of all the Confederate Armies — One Hundred Thousand 
Deserters — Etlect of tho Disasters on Mr. Davis — Ho Attempts to Re-animate the People by 
Braggart Speeches — A Remarkable Speech at Augusta — The Error and Weakness of the Policy 
of Inflation of Public Confidence — The Temper of the South Misunderstood by Mr. Davis — 
Partial Sincerity of his Expressions of Confidence in the War — His Ovor-Sanguino Tempera- 
ment — Some Instances of It — Mr. Davis Constantly Blind to the True Condition of Affairs — 
Extraordinary Self-Delusion — Extravagance of Hope, as an Infirmity of Character — .V Shrewd 
Suspicion of one Motive the President had to Remove Johnston — Ilis Weak Ambition to Con- 
duct a Military Campaign — How his Vanity Betrayed liim at Macon — His Visits to the Ar- 
mies Ominous — The Country Surprised by Hood's Eccentric Movement towards Tennessee — 
Mr. Davis's Prophecy of Sherman's Retreat — Fatal Error of the Davis-Hood Campaign — It is 
Arranged at one End, without ever Looking to the other End — General Johnston Fore;>ees 
Sherman's March to the Sea — Interesting Extract fronj a Private Letter of the Former — A 
Baptist Clergyman's Evangely in Richmond — Mr. Davis on " Vital Points" of the Confederacy 
— An Error in his Calculation — Decline of the War Spirit in the South — General Hardee at 
Savannah — His Gtini Telegram to Bragg — Fall of Savannah — March of Sherman towards 
Richmond — Apparition of the Army of Tennessee in the Pine Woods of North Carolina. 

General Hood had been cappointed by President Davis 
as a "fighting General," and he at once proceeded to make 
good the recommendation. In one week he fought three 
vain, ineffectual battles, attempting to break the enemy's lines. 
They were the most brilliant, reckless, massive and headlong 
charges of the war. It appeared as if he emulated Grant in 
reducing the art of war to competitive slaughter, although it 
should have been plain to him that the resources of the South 
afforded no margin for fonciful battles. It was a Ilxtal imita- 
tion. General Johnston had left the Army of Tennessee with 
a heavy heart for his country, for he knew what was expected 
of his successor, and he knew that the expectation involved 
destruction, both to that army and to the Confederacy. 



SECRET HISTORY OF TflE CONFEDERACY. 383 

ITood rctii-od his reduced array into Atlanta, only to rn.ako 
another mistake. General Johnston had earnestly sought the 
transfer of Forrest's cavalry to operate in Sherman's rear, 
knowing how necessary it was to keep the little cavalry that 
l)roper]y belonged to his army, to watch the movements of 
the enemy and to entangle his flanks. Hood sent off his 
entire cavalry towards Chattanooga; Sherman, with his flanks 
now easily protected, moved to the South, repulsed an at- 
tem.pt to dislodge him, broke the Macon road, severed 
Atlanta entirely from its supplies — and "the Gate City" fell, 
Hood retreating from it under the cover of an ill-starred 
night. 

It was a disaster of fearful import to the South, but (Uily 
such as had been expected by intelligent persons who fore- 
saw the consequences of Johnston's removal. It was the 
occasion however of a new appeal to Mr. Davis ; and for some 
time a brave endeavor was made to repair as far as possible 
the disaster, and to avert the demoralization which was now 
swiftly pervading the Confederacy. All in Georgia was not 
yet lost ; there yet remained between Atlanta and Macon the 
army of Hood which had secured its retreat, shattered and 
demorali;ied it is true, but which might yet respond to the 
inspiration of the return of its old commander, and thus be 
enabled to check the further advance of the flushed and inso- 
lent enemy. It was not too late to restore Johnston to com- 
mand ; it was the natural and obvious remedy ; and it was 
supposed that, after a lesson so plain and severe as Mr. Davis 
had derived from his removal, he would be more accessible 
to the popular appeal and argument, and might relent in his 
personal enmity toward the unjustly treated commander. He 
had removed Johnston for the ostensible reason that he had 
not been perfectly confident of holding Atlanta. Why should 



884 LIFE OF JEFFERSOiSr DAVIS, WITH A 

be not remove Hood for the solid and greater reason that he 
had lost it ? 

An urgent and imposing appeal for the restoration of John- 
ston was prepared. Nearly all the newspapers joined in it. 
Members of Congress visited the President as petitioners ; 
every influence around him was, as far as possible, employed 
to change his purposes concerning Johnston, and to shake 
his obstinacy ; and even the intercessions of many of those 
who were recognized favorites of Mr. Davis were secured to 
reinforce the appeal. He was inexorable. On on-e occasion 
his family physician ventured to tell him that the public ex- 
pectation was that he would relent, and that Johnston would 
be restored to command. "Doctor," replied Mr. Davis, "do 
you believe in homoeopathy — similia similihus curantur — like 
cures like ? An3'how, I am not disposed to practise it in my 
government. I will not attempt to cure disasters of the 
country by imposing upon it the very man in whom these 
disasters originated, and whom I hold to be the author of the 
greatest misfortunes of the Confederacy. The people may be 
sure that I shall not give them another dose of Johnston." 

Nothing being done by any change in the administration 
at Richmond, or any new disposition of the commander in 
the field to break the fall of Atlanta, the worst consequences 
of this event were rapidly realized. The most deplorable 
effect was the demoralization, which was not confined to the 
arni}^ yet commanded by Hood, but which quickl}^ spread 
through all the camps of the Confederacy, and involved the 
whole people. Two or three months after the great; disaster, 
it was estimated that the desertions from the Confederate 
armies for the yet unfinished year had reached one hundred 
thousand men ! The narrowed limits of the war, the threat- 
ened loss of the vast agricultural interest in Georgia, the 



RKCRK'l" IllsrOltY OK TIIF, CONKKDEUACY, 385 

do]')letlon of \\\c ai-inics, were subjects of ]);un['ul contciaphi- 
tion, wln'iH- l)iiL ;i slioit liiiiu bolbvc bad reigned tbo prospect 
of nil cnrlv peace. Tlie discouragement of the people was 
expi'cssed in sneers, lanienlalions, and misgivings ol' tin! 
fntni'c. 

Afv. Davis was not moved by tlie ])opulav (bsconteiit ;intl 
alarm to give up any of liis personal ])i'i'jiulices. Ibil In; 
(^ould not b(> wlioilv insc>nsi])lo to tlu'si^ ap])t>als; be saw lliiit 
be li:id couunitlcd ;i l;I"(';iI, mistake and produtied a great, dis- 
aster, and be pi'opi)sed in bis eliaracteristic way to cover up 
tlie latter by boastful spt'.eclies and messages — by ])utting a 
fine (!omple.\ion on llie iilVairs of tlie country, wben tliey were 
verging to tlie worst, lie bad tried tliis weaic remedy more 
tban once in tbe bistory of tbo wai\ experimenting upon tbe 
popular sinii:imeiit by braggadocio. He now proposed to 
visit tlu! (;amps of Hood, in (leorgia, to liarangue tlie piH)pK! 
by tbe way, and to tiy what bis ingenuity of words might 
ai'-eomplisb to cure the populai' desjiondency. Some; ui' these 
speecbes are curiosities in the way ol' swollen and braggart 
rhetoric. 

At Augusta, Georgia, be said: "^JMiose who see no boi)e 
" now, who liave lost conlidence, are to me like those of 
" wliose distorted vision it is said, they behold spots upon llio 
" sun. Sucb are the croakers who seem to I'oi'get the 
" battles tbat have been won, and the men who have I'ought ; 
" who forget that in tbe magnitude of those battles and the 
" bcroism of tbose men, this struggle exceeds all that his- 
" tt)ry records. We commenced the light without ;in army, 
" witbout a navy, witbout arsenals, without mei;lianii;s, with- 
" out money, and without credit, b'our years we have 
"stemmed the tide of invasion, and lo-daij are stronger Ihan 
"when the war began; better able now than ever to rc[)ulse 



386 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

" the VanJal who is seeking our overthrow. Once we im- 
" ported the commonest articles of daily use, and brought in 
" from beyond our borders even bread and meat. Now the 
'• State of Georgia alone produces food enough not only for 
•' her own people, and the army within it, but feeds, too, the 
•' army of Virginia.* Once we had no arms, and could receive 
•• no soldier but those who came to us armed. Now avc have 
'• arms for all, and are begging men to bear them. This city 
•• of Augusta alone produces more powder than the army can 
■■ burn. All things are lair, and this Confederacy is not yet 
"'played out,' as those declare who spread their own des- 
•' pondency over the whole body politic." 

Of the absurd exaltation of such speeches a part must 
have necessarily been insincere. There is something to be 
accounted to braggadocio — to the bad calculation of raising 
the spirits of a fatigued and despondent people, by false pic- 
tures of hope and delusive promises of success. 

As the author has had other occasion to observe of Mr. 
Davis, •' his flippant prophecies of speedy success were 
doubtless intended to animate the South. But in this respect 
it was the thought of a small mind, a shallow trick ; and it 
had the fault, too, of being calculated without refer<jnce to a 
peculiar temper of the Southern people in the Avar. That 
temper was one of impatience, almost of mutiny, under pe- 
culiar hardships ; and thoughtful men remarked it more than 
once in the exhibitions of the war. It grew out of the very 
elements of Southern society. Here was a people of singu- 
larly high spirit, who had enjoyed a previous prosperity 
perhaps greater than that of any other community of equal 
numbers on earth, who had lived, although perhaps some- 

* A curious commentary oii the necessity of the Impressment Law. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 387 

times witliout cultivation, yet always in ease, and who Lad 
their due share of republican indisposition to submit to 
severe exercises of authority. A people so sensitive should 
have been lightly taxed with disappointments, and the policy 
of amusing them with promises was essentially a delicate and 
danoferous one. It would have been the task of a true states- 
man to have moderated their expectations, and to have edu- 
cated then to just conceptions of the trials of the war. 
Instead of such prudent cultivations of strength, Mr. Davis 
always went to the opposite extreme of inflaming the arm}'- 
and people with promises, and while foolishly congratulating 
himself on the momentary excitements that flared out under 
such appeals, he did not perceive that the heart of the country 
was being steadily consumed by this policy, and that with 
each false appeal to public confidence he lessened his hold 
upon it." 

But the singular remark is to be added of such speeches 
as we have reported the President making at Augusta, that 
it was not entirely insincere, and that while some of it may 
be ascribed to braggadocio, some of it must be put down 
to his self-delusion. He undoubtedly believed much of 
what he said. There is nothing more remarkable of this 
extraordinary man than an over-sanguine temperament, par- 
taking largely of conceit, which kept him to the last blind 
to the true condition of aflliirs, and even presented him in- 
creased in confidence, self-complacent as his power continued 
to decline, lively and hopeful when all around him had been 
committed to despair. The man who could be so insolently 
confident as towards the close of the year 1864, when the 
disasters we have referred to had been largely increased, to ■ 
reply to a suggestion of European recognition, that the Con-' 
federacy was past the necessity for it, and to decline the 



888 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS WITH A 

;j attempt to secure such countenance and aid from the French 
*^ Emperor, as not needed to secure the success of the South; 
■; and Avho, when Sherman had marched through Georgia, and 
\ South Carolina and North Carolina, almost to the borders of 
Virginia, prophesied that he would be speedily destroyed, 
and that peace and independence were only a few months 
distant, might well be accounted as suffering from self-delu- 
sion, and not altogetlier insincere, in speaking so hopefully 
; of the condition of tlie South to an audience in Georgia, 
when that State had not 3'et been lost to the Confederacy, 
and when the enemy that had entered it had not yet passed 
beyond Atlanta. 

We are forced to the reflection on this extravagance of 
hope in the character of Mr. Davis, the singular fatuity that 
kept liim constantly insensible of the real condition about 
him, that whatever happiness it may have bestowed upon the 
individual, it is an infirmity of weak minds, and never more 
out of place and more deplorable than in the serious govern- 
ment of men. The common observation of life teaches us 
that such a disposition is characteristic of weak and disap- 
pointed men. It is the source of constant failure, for it 
excludes the judgment. It is only he who can measure events 
that can control them ; the just conception must precede the 
effective execution ; and it may be announced almost in the 
form of an axiom — at least, in the style of a correct antithesis 
— that he who cannot, in some measure, govern events, has, 
in no measure, the ris-ht to arovern men. 

But to return to the progress of Mr. Davis's journey in 
Georgia. He lost no time, beyond that required in making- 
speeches, in hastening to Hood's lines. It had been already 
suspected, by a few persons in Eichmond, that a part of the 
motive which the President had in removing Johnston, was 



SECEET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 389 

to exhibit some of liis own military ideas, and impress liis 
own views on the campaign in Georgia; knowing well that 
Hood would permit such interference, and would consent, as 
long as he had the nominal rank which he coveted, to be 
used as his instrument, whereas Johnston would certainly have 
resented it. It was an opportunity for Mr. Davis, which the 
deference of Hood gave, to display himself in the field, and 
to gratify the ambition which he had long indulged of the 
personal conduct or direction of a campaign. Before he 
reached Hood's line, he announced so plainly, in a speech, in 
Macon, his purpose to produce some great military phenome- 
non, that he not only moved the expectations of those who 
heard him, but excited the suspicion of the enemy ; so greatly 
betraying himself by the imprudence of his vanity, that 
General Grant has since written of this speech, that it " dis- 
closed the plans of the Confederates, thus enabling General 
Sherman to fully meet them^ 

The visit of the President to any of the armies of the Con- 
federacy had always been ominous. Thereafter, the country 
had generally heard of obvious campaigns discomfitted or 
overruled, and the substitution of some far-fetched and 
empirical plan of operations, such as might well proceed from 
the vanity of a man who had mistaken his vocation. Mr. 
Davis, as we have elsewhere noticed, imagined, after the 
fashion of vain men, that his forte laid in what he was really 
weakest. He was excessively fanciful in military matters, and 
to the last, he continued to believe that he was a master of the 
art of war. He thought to illustrate genius, while he Avas 
only proving the affectation of it, in fondness for novelties, in 
moving out of the beaten track of campaigns, and in surpris- 
ing the public by sudden and violent eccentricities. 

Surprise he accomplished enough ; for the country soon 



390 LIFE OF JEFFEKSON DAVIS, WITH A 

beheld, with feelings akin to amazement, Hood's army turned 
northward and marching in the direction of Tennessee ! The 
first night Mr. Davis reached Hood's lines, he said, as if he 
had not already advertised sulTicieutly to the enemy as well 
as to the Sonth his plan of operations — speaking to Cheat- 
ham's command : — " Be of good cheer, for in a short while 
your faces will be turneil homeward, and your feet pressing 
Tennessee soil." The novelty of the movement, and the 
indiscreet admissions of the President, in his various ad- 
dresses, were such that for a long time the wondering people 
in Richmond would believe neither. The newspapers there 
had daily contests as to the whereabouts of Hood ; and it was 
suggested that the speeches of the President were forgeries 
or extravagances of the telegraph, or that they had been 
made in an unnatural excitement. At Macon, he had alluded 
with something of vexation to the depletion in General 
Hood's ranks, caused by "absenteeism," and promised if the 
deserters would return to duty, that General Shonnan should 
incur "the fate that befell the army of the French Empire in 
its retreat from Moscow. Our cavalry," he said, " and our 
people will harass and destroy his army as the Cossacks did 
that of Napoleon; and the Yankee General, like he, will 
escape only with a body-guard." 

The foundation of these boasts, the military conceit that 
gave rise to them, and which was the indisputable product 
J }f Mr. Davis's brain, and, indeed, ostentatiously advertised 
by him, was *he n\ovoment of Hood's army to the rear of 
Atlanta, on die calculation that, destroying the railroad be- 
tween the Chattahoochee and Chattanooga, and crossing the 
Tennessee river, burning the bridge behind it, it might 
isolate Atlanta from Chattanooga, and the latter from Nash- 
ville, and thus cut oft' Sherman from his primary and second 



HK(!1:KT lllSTOItY Ol' THIO CONFKDEUAOY, oUl 

ary bases. Yet iliis vv;is l>iil, one end oC tJic curnpiii^^n. Mr. 
Daviff a})po<'ir(!(l to lui.v'e jibsoliitcly iiuvor looked at tho other 
end; to li;iv(! iievcjr ([iieHtioried wliut Sliei-rrian would do; to 
liav(; t;ik'(!n loi- j^nuited tliat lie wfjiild have fbllovvtjd Hood 
with iiiie([ii;il |);u',e ;ui(| in the dismay of reti'eat he had des- 
crilied ; and to have n(!V(;r had his mind (;roK.sed by the / 
thou^ilit ihat Sh(M'man mi^^ht mur(;h through the rieh and 
invitin;.'; country, vvhi(;h tho withdrawal of Hood's army had 
loll nmh:('en(h'd, to the sea. Jt was a earnpaign eharactcristic 
of the partial and unilateral iniiid of Mr. Davis. What in- 
Hanity must have inspired u movcsment that thus uneovered a 
vital and most resoiiiT,el'ul part of the Confederacy, and yet 
assumed that the eruiniy vvoidd not take advanta;.^e of it! 
Mr. Davis must liavfj known that there was nothiiif^ between 
.Sherma,n and Augusta, or Savannah, but about two thousand 
of Wheehir's ill-mounted and ill-disei[)linod cavalry; that 
there was nothing to be expe(;ted of tin; (jeorgia, militia, sine,e 
Governor lirown, wh(;s(j action in the war had already be- 
come sinister, ha,d withdrawn them from Dood, and retired 
them to their homes, as soon as Atlanta had fallen; that 
General Beauregard had no troops to spare fv()]i\ (Jhafleston ; 
that Savannah was almost without a garrison; and that that 
part of (Georgia, which was tlnj granary of the South, laid at 
Sherman's mercy, the (air, warm fields inviting him, while 
Hood's army, at the beginning of winter, mareli(;d northward 
to the cold mountain ridg(!s, and with an uneei-tain d(>:tination. 
lie pre|)ared a tra[), blabljed of its ingcmuity, expos(;d it to 
the enemy, and then sup[)Osed that he would walk directly 
into it, without once considering the clianc(;s of his going in 
an(jtlier dircc^tion I 

(Jencral Johnstcm was nirnaining as a jjrivate (;iti/.en in 
Macon, llis ready and even mind knew what was eomijig. 



392 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

la a private letter to a friend in Eichmond; he wrote: "I 
could not tell the public what I would have done if left in 
command. I do not hesitate to tell you, though, that if I 
had been left in command of that army, it is very unlikely 
that Atlanta would have been abandoned. At all events, ten 
or twelve thousand soldiers, whose lives have been thrown 
away, would have been saved. Nor would I have left Sher- 
man, with a force about equal to my own, in the heart of 
Georgia, to make such an excursion as our army is now en- 
gaged in. If Sherman understands his game, he can now cut 
off General Lee's supplies, which pass through this place, and 
break up all our establishments for the repair of arms and 
preparation of ammunition ; and this without risk, without 
the chance of being compelled to fight — a necessity which he 
can avoid by marching to Charleston, Savannah, Pensacola, or 
Mobile. At this season the country can furnish his army an 
abundance of food and forage. Sherman, in his extreme 
caution, may not venture upon such a course. Should he do 
so, he will win." 

Sherman did understand his game. He marched through 
an undefended country to the sea, impeded only by the 
plunder of his soldiers ; he closed the year with the capture 
of Savannah, a "Christmas gift" to his government; he be- 
came the terror of the South, the messenger of doom; his 
fierce, lurid warfare spreading fear and dismay through the 
country, failing to disturb the equanimity, the confidence, the 
self-complacent routine of but one man in the Confederacy — 
he, Jeft'erson Davis ! 

" God had put a hook in Sherman's nose, and was leading 
him to destruction," said Doctor Burroughs, a puddy, little 
Baptist clergyman of Richmond, who affected intimacy with 
the President, and who would have said or done anything to 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 393 

jump with his humor. Tho President was satisfied witli the 
revehition. He had said in November, 1864, when Congress 
met in Eichmond : " The Confederacy has no vital points. If 
Richmond, and Wihnington, and Charleston, and Savannah; 
and ]\[obilc were all captured, the Confederacy would remain 
as defiant as ever," This might be true in a certain sense; 
but the declaration implied, as its first condition, that the 
spirit of the people,, despite of temporary disasters, \v'as to re- 
main erect and unbroken. Could it be said tluit that spirit 
was thus firm, when it had become the chief care of those 
who remained out of the army, to dodge the conscription, 
when "details" were purchased at tens of thousands of 
dollars, and when it was commonly said in Richmond, that it 
Avas " easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle 
than for a rich man to enter Camp Lee " — the rendezvous for 
conscripts ; when delegations were being plotted in all parts 
of the South for peace missions to Washington ; when the 
desertions from Lee's army, that of best morale in the Con- 
federacy, were reported to average fifty a day ; when North 
Carolina swarmed with deserters, so numerous, and desperate 
in their resistance, that whole regiments had to be sent to re. 
claim them ; when gold was quoted at 1 for 60 in Richmond ; 
when Mr. Davis had already (in his message to Congress in 
November) suggested the arming of the slaves, as if Negro 
soldiers might do what white citizens, with their vastly supe- 
rior interests in the contest, were no longer forward in accom- 
plishing ; when all thoughtful persons walked with bent heads ; 
when there was nothing of social cheer in the Confederacy, 
only the bad and reckless revelry which expresses the levity 
of despair; when the newspapers were filled with complaints 
of Mr. Davis; when 1\\q Examiner printed its famous "^Aew 
Jam Salis''' article, and when those journals which had 



394 LIFE OF JEFFERSON" UAVIS, WITH A 

hitherto defended the President had now nothing to offer, but 
falsehood's Last refuge — silence ? 

But Mr. Davis remained blind and insolent ; his eyes fil- 
letted, his ears sealed, his imagination drunken. If the 
public had really known something of the history then 
secretly transpiring of Sherman's march through Georgia 
they would have been aghast at the folly of the President, or 
they might possibly have been amused at the grotesqueness 
of some of his affectations of confidence. General Hardee 
had been appointed to take command in Georgia. He repre- 
sented to the government the exact condition of affairs, and 
the necessity of sending him troops, both for the defence of his 
department, and as an eventual protection to General Lee. The 
estimate was that Sherman had forty-five thousand muskets, and 
Hardee was willing to take the field against him with twenty 
thousand. Not a soldier or a gun was sent him, and he was left 
to his unassisted resources.* He set about securing the service 
of the militia and reserves of Georgia and South Carolina, and 
took measures for placing all important points in his depart- 
ment in such condition of defence as his means would allow. 
He went to Macon, Georgia, where there were valuable 
public shops, soon after Sherman began his march southward. 

* Every soldier and gun not absolutely indispensable to bold the 
coast line, had l)een sent to Lee or Johnston long ago. The troops 
left in Hardee's department, mostly heavy artillerists, were distribu- 
ted in forts and defences along one hundred and fifty miles of coast, 
and were at every point confronted by the land or naval forces of the 
enemy. The weakening of any one point would have been followed 
by an attack upon it, probably a successful one, by an enemy con- 
stantly on the alert, and whose naval resources gave him great ad- 
vantages for concentration. The loss of one point in a system of 
coast defences more or less dependent, involved the eventual loss of 
the whole system. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEItERACY. 395 

There he could do no more than collect a force of Georgia re- 
serves, under command of Howell Cobb, and the reserve 
artillery of the Army of Tennessee, which had been sent 
back to that point by Hood, prepared to defend the place. 
Sherman passed by without attacking Macon, and Hardee 
then proceeded to Savannah, which was now evidently Sher- 
man's destination. 

At Savannah, General Hardee received from the "military 
adviser" of the President, the redoubtable Bragg, a telegram 
advising him to take the field against Sherman ! He replied 
with bitter humor that his whole available force at Savannah 
then consisted of one hundred and eighty Georgia militia, and 
he suggested most respectfully that Mr. Davis could scarcely 
desire him to assume the offensive against Sherman's army 
with that force ! 

Events moved rapidly beyond the limits of our narrative 
assigned to this chapter. It is not our design to attend the 
march of Sherman from Savannah to Charleston, to Branch- 
ville, through North Carolina, towards Richmond. It is 
only to notice the improvidence and folly of Mr. Davis. 
\vhich, as we have seen laid bare all the length and breadth 
of the Confederacy outside of a small circle around Richmond 
and a slip of territory in Virginia, and which at the last 
gathered from all quarters of the South, outside the Richmond 
lines, not more than fourteen thousand men on the front of 
Sherman, advanced near Raleigh. What had become of that 
splendid army from which Johnston had parted at Atlanta, 
and which was to achieve the wonders conceived by Mr. 
Davis, to illustrate his military genius, and to revive the 
memories of Napoleon ? When in the forests of North Carolina 
it made its reappearance, only fow thousand men answered to 
the roll-call of the Army of Tennessee ; men worn and hag- 



896 LIFE OF JEFFEE30X DAVIS, WITH A 

gard from the hard service of winter, tlieir faded gray jackets 
stained with the mud of six States in which they had fought 
or marched within the past three months, and not more than 
a corporal's guard gathered around some of the regimental 
colors that had waved defiantly at Atlanta, but since then 
had never been carried to a single victory ! 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 397 



CHAPTER XXV. 

IiilluiuHl AsiHM-t of till! War on tlio Siilo of tlic Nortli— Tlio Ciuises wliich Proihicccl it— How the 
C'nu'l mill Iiiliiuiiiiii Siiirit of (ho Nortli liiiii Increased— Tlio Warfaro of Sliormiui—llis Con- 
tract with his Soldiers for Plntidpr— His Army Re-created hy the Davis-IIood Campaign— The 
Track of Iiis March tliroiigh the Caroliiias— General Hampton's Reflections on tlio Buruitig 
of Columbia— Slieridan Competes with Sherman in Atrocities— Devastation of tho Valley of 
Virginia— Approved by Public Sentiment in tho North— Tho Last Period of tho War that of 
Revengeful Punishment of tho South- General Grant Involved in tho Savago Warfore- A New 
Theory of tho Enemy's Raids— Their Extraordinary Moral Effect on the South— Change of 
Warfare on the Confederate side, Correspondent to the Increased Atrocities of the Enemy— Mr. 
Davis Refuses any Plan of Open and Manly Retaliation— How ho Treated his Friends, and 
how his Enemies— A Curious Sort of Obstinacy— Reminiscences of General Leo in Pennsyl- 
vania— General Early's Feat of Incendiarism— Secret Expeditions to Fire Northern Cities, etc.— 
A Moan and Paltry Substitute for Legitimate Retaliation— Curious Method of Taking Revenge 
upon tho North— Mr. Davis's Responsibility for Firing Northern Cities and Robbing Northern 
Riiidcs- Revelations of tho St. Albans Raiders and theCliesapeako " Pirates"-— One of Morgan's 
Men to Fire Chicago — To what Extent those Bad Enterprises wore Countenanced by Mr. Davis 

—Secrets of tho Confederate Passport Office — Revelations of a Member of Congress Mr. Davis 

and " Confidence Men " — A Peep at his Ante-Room — Romantic Story of an Italian Adrenluror 
in Richmond— Tho Carbonari and tho Assassination of Abraham Lincoln — Mr. Davis Innocent 
of any Conspiracy against tho Life of Lincoln— A Playful Allusion to tho Abduction of tho 
Northern President — What Mr. Davis Thought of his Rival at Washington. 

About t]ic time of Sherman's march through the South, tlic 
war on the enemy's side assumed an aspect so new, and so 
exaggerated, and so decided, that we cannot pass it without 
notice. The fall of Atlanta, the encouragement it bestowed on 
all the armies of the North, the consequent defeat and diminu- 
tion of the Democratic party, the re-election of Lincoln, made 
the enemy so confident of success, that there was no longer 
any occasion to bridle the real passions of the war, or to 
practice any show of moderation. It was remarked through- 
out the war that the North became insolent and ferocious as 



893 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

it gained successes. Now, since it bad passed, as it supposed, 
the crisis of the war, and was assured of speedy and complete 
victory, the mask of humanity, ah'cady thin enough, was 
thrown ofij and the formerly pent up hate of the North had 
full swa3^ It appeared as if a calculation had been made of 
usino- the little time left of th© war in inakino- excessive re- 
prisals of vengeance for what the North had suffered in nearly 
four 3'ears of bloody contest, and while the memories of its 
own losses were yet fresh and exasperated. It was as if. ex- 
pecting an early termination of hostilities, the enemy had re- 
solved to expend all he could of rage on the antagonist who 
had so long baffled, punished, and scorned him, while such 
acts of ferocity might obtain some appearance of justification 
in a state of war, and before the South might come under the 
shelter of a declaration of peace. 

In earlier periods of the war the North had practised out- 
rages, and hael sliown a savage disposition, which the South 
then imagined could not be exceeded, and which it supposed 
was the limit of its sufferings. But now the atrocities of 
Sherman, of Hunter, of Sheridan, went far past all former ex- 
periences of the war, and a dense, disfiguring chapter of 
horrors was to precede the illuminated " i^m/s," the decked 
scroll of peace. When Butler governed in New Orleans, he 
had banished people from that city, but only such as were 
" reoistered enemies." those beino; called so who refused to for- 
sweat' their allegiance to the Confederacy ; about the period 
of Pope's irruption into Virginia, the Northern Congress had 
passed a law, popularly known in the South as " the plunder 
act," but which authorized the taking only of such private 
property of "rebels," as might be available for military use; 
at various times of the war, citizens had been imprisoned and 
executed, and in some instances as felons, but even these 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 399 

f'apitui outraj^cs hud been done under some afl'ected forms of 
law, and with some show of triah Now, Sherman did not 
hesitate to exile from their homes whole and indiscriminate 
popiihilions, men, womey, and children, as when, in liis 
characteristic slang, ho " wiped out" Atlanta ; now, all [)rivate 
property, of every species and in every place, dwelling-houses, 
furniture in the chambers of the sick, jewelry on the persons 
of ladies, were given over to the marauder or the incendiary, 
and every soldier in Sherman's army was a licensed plun- 
derer ; now, peaceful citizens were dragged to unwholesome 
prisons, were driven as cattle in the rear of the invading 
army, or were shot down at the doors of their houses, for no 
other offence than that of attempting to defend their property. 
The immediate occasion of license which Sherman gave to 
his army is interesting, as it has been suggested by General 
Johnston, The latter commander has explained that one of 
his calculations in resting at Atlanta, and there taxing the 
time of the enemy, was that he expected a considerable part 
of Sherman's army to be discharged, as the time for which 
the troops enlisted expired. This army had been formed in 
1861 for three years ; the terms of most of the regiments had 
been served out, and a very large number refused to re-enlist. 
But the capture of Atlanta came in time to relieve tlic Federal 
Gjeneral from the unwillingness of his soldiers to continue the 
campaign; and what inducements were offered to secure their 
re-enlistment may be inferred from the license which they 
indulged in the long marches of the months that followed. 
It was a matter of contract. The Federal soldiers were in- 
duced to believe that they had done enough for glory, that 
they had now only to fight for booty ; and when the modern 
Vandal marched from Atlanta his sword pointed to the pri- 
vate wealth of three States as the argument for re-enlistment. 



400 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

The wretched Davis-Hood device which had uncovered these 
States, had re-created Sherman's array, and, besides giving it 
opportunity, had supplied it with animation to make the most 
of it. 
/^ The narrative of Sherman's march through the Carolinas 
/ will be read over the world as a graphic and fearfully pic- 
turesque illustration of the barbarities of war, when the apo- 
crypha or more doubtful stories af Goth and Yandal are for- 
gotten. Wide-spreading columns of smoke rose wherever 
went that army of destruction. These fearful evidences of 
its march stood constantly in the sky, signals by which the 
marauders who had wandered miles away to plunder were 
guided back to the main army. Pillagers, incendiaries, 
" bummers." black and white thieves, recruited on the march 
and conveniently called " emigrants," were put under the 
charge of men who had escaped from the Confederate prisons, 
on the calculation that such officers would be most cruel and 
ferocious, and that they might have an opportunity to avenge 
the memories of Andersonville and Stxlisburj'. Tliese preda- 
tory and murderous bands spared nothing. On the black, 
slow, length of an army choked with emigratit trains, laden 
with plunder, picturesque with a barbaric caravansar}-, there 
were carried devastation, ruin and horror. The smoke of a 
hundred conflagrations arose to the sunlit sky, and at night a 
o-leam brio'hter and more lurid than that on the horizon of 
evening, shot from every verge. The land was desolated and 
scorched, dwelling-houses were robbed and then wantonly 
fired, the shrines of religion Avere violated, women were in- 
sulted, and in many a household there was an agony more 
biiter than death. Looking over the s-moking ruins of the 
once beautiful city of Columbia, his own cherished home in- 
volved in the destruction, General "Wade Ilampton wrote to 



i 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 401 

tlie conqueror, who had just threatened him because some 
Federal pillagers had been killed by men defending their 
property : — '' You are particular in defining and claiming 
' war rights.' May I ask if you enumerate among them the 
right to fire upon a defenceless city without notice; to burn 
that city to the ground after it had been surrendered by the 
authorities, who claimed, though in vain, that protection 
which is always accorded in civilized warfare to non-combat- 
ants ; to fire the dwelling-houses of citizens, after robbing 
them, and to perpetrate even darker crimes than these — 
crimes too black to be mentioned ?" 

The outrages of Sherman were not only sustained but en- 
couraged by a public sentiment in the North ; and the con- 
tagion of his example was soon illustrated in all the Federal 
armies. In the Valley of Virginia — where Jackson had 
planted crimson, glorious memories, and where Early had 
just made a counterpart of Hood's wretched campaign, and 
had left behind him a monument of shame — Sheridan vied 
with Sherman in the work of destruction, and appeared to 
envy him for the popularity of the ruffian and the incendiary. 
" I have destroyed," he wrote gleefully, " over two thousand 
barns filled with wheat, hay and farming implements, and 
over seventy mills filled with wheat and flour." The bright, 
tempered sword was laid aside for the indiscriminating, re- 
lentless, merciless torch. A spectator in Sheridan's army 
touched by scenes he was compelled to witness has thus 
written of them: — "The wailing of women and children 
mingling with the crackling of flames, has sounded from 
scores of dwellings. I have seen mothers weeping over the 
loss of that which was necessary to their children's lives, 
settino- aside their own, their last cow, their last bit of flour 
pilfered by stragglers, the last morsel that they had in the 
26 



402 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

■world to eat or drink. Young girls with flushed cheeks, 
und pale with tearful or tearless eye, have pleaded with or 
cursed the men whom the necessities of war (!) have forced to 
burn the buildings reared by their fathers, and turn them 
into paupers in a day. The completeness of the desolation is 
awful."* 

Yet what one jSTorthern man looked upon with a sickened 
heart was a pleasing picture to millions in the North, who re- 
garded it as a sign of their power or a token of their 
triumph, who had their vanity pleased or their liatc gi'atiliod 
by it. Tiie extent of this disposition to punish the South, 
conceived at a time when victory should have made the 
enem}'- generous — the breadth and depth of that vindictive 
sentiment, which acquired such sudden growth after the fall 
of Atlanta, and when all danger of the war to the North was 
supposed to have passed, appears almost incredible ; and, yet 
examined, it is perfectly undeniable. A passion apjicars to 
have seized the whole people of the North to crowd the last 

* A committee, consisting of thirty-six citizens and the same num- 
ber of magistrates, appointed by tlie county court of Rockingliam for 
the purpose of making an estimate of the losses of that county by the 
execution of General Slieridan's orders, made an investigation and 
reported as follows : — 

Dwelling-houses burned, 30 ; barns burned, 450 ; mills burned, 31 ; 
fencing destroyed (miles) 100 ; bushels of wheat destroyed, 100,000 ; 
bushels of corn destroj-ed, 50,000 ; tons of hay destroyed, (x233 ; 
cattle carried off, 1750 ; hoi-ses carried off, 1750 ; sheep carried off, 
4,200 ; hogs carried off, 3,350 ; factories burned, 3 ; furnace destroyed, 
L In addition to which there was an immense amount of farming 
utensils of every description destroyed, many of them of great value, 
such as McCormick's reapers, and threshing machines ; also house- 
hold and kitchen furniture, money, bonds, plates, etc., etc., the 
whole loss being estimated at the enormous sum of $25,000,000. 



SECRET IllSTOUY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 403 

period of the war with viiulictive measures, and to disfi.nne 
it with scenes of savage warfare. The South was to bo rnadc 
"sick of war" as Sheridan suggested, and nearly the whole 
Nortli applauded the sentiment. As significant evidence of 
the growth of this passion for vengeful hostilities, the in- 
crease of savage disposition in the war, we find General 
Grant— a commander who had never before fouglit women 
and children, and who had hitherto been considered by the 
South as conducting a legitimate contest of arms— involved 
by it, actually giving those orders, which Sheridan executed 
as his lieutenant, but for which the latter has hitherto been 
willing to reap all the inflimy, and esteem it glory. Such 
outrages could not have been ordered by the highest General 
m the Federal armies; could not have been countenanced by 
the newspaper press; could not have failed to awaken a re- 
sponse of pity or indignation, save some desultory expres- 
sions of sentimentalism or some appeals of party in Demo- 
cratic journals, unless there had been a large popular senti- 
ment to sustain such conversion of the war to the methods 
and codes of the barbarian. 

While the aspect of vengeful war was thus put on by the 
main armies of the North, another means was employed 
which not only served to harass the South, but is remarka- 
ble for the effect it had upon the imagination of its people, 
and the advantage thus contributed to the enemy. We refer 
to those numerous raids by which the South was cut up— 
those expeditions of cavalry which traversed every part of 
the country, and appeared in places where a Federal soldier 
had never before been seen. The Southern newspapers were 
in the habit of consoling themselves that these raids accom- 
plished but little of material injury, such only as could be 
soon repaired, and they were often foolishly inclined to ridi- 



404 LIFE OF JEFFER30X DAVIS, WITH A 

cule and caricature them as profitless adventures. But it was a 
great mistake. These frequent and far penetrating raids of the 
enemy, even when they inllicted but the most trifling injuries 
on the physical resources and material of the South, did as 
much to determine the war in favor of the North as many 
considerable battles. It was the alarm they created, the 
eflect they had on the imagination of the people of the South, 
the sense of insecurity which they spread through the length 
and breadth of the country, the bringing home to every 
household the fear of an armed enemy, the apparition of '' the 
Yankee," which more than the defeats of main armies in the 
field made the South " sick of war," and disposed to abandon 
it. These raids of the enemy, multiplied in the last period 
of the war we are now considering, operated largely to the 
demoralization of the South, and were doubtless organized 
for that purpose, rather than for the amount of material in- 
jury they might inflict. A feeling of insecurity entered 
every household in the Confederacy. There was not a square 
mile outside the lines of Richmond where the enemy's cavalry 
might not put in an unexpected appearance ; and thus those 
who had hitherto lived remote from the war had now 
its terrors brought to their doors. For one act of outrage 
committed by these raiders, a hundred persons suffered in 
alarm. It was impossible to say what point they might not 
next visit, or who might not be their next victims. The 
imagination of almost the whole people of the Confederacy 
was strained and their spirits worn by a constant anxiety ; 
and thus, while the main Federal armies spread death and 
devastation as far as they could reach, the enterprise of raiders 
carried to remote parts of the country the fear if not the 
actual experience of war — almost an equal agent of demorali- 
zation. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 405 

To the various outrages of the enemy what of response had 
President Davis to make ? To the new and inflamed aspect 
of the war assumed by the North we shall see as a feeble 
correspondent some change in the warfare of the South. But 
it was a change of the most paltry pattern, and of the most 
curious character. 

Mr. Davis had constantly refused any open retaliation upon 
the enemy, from motives which, in a preceding chapter we 
have discussed. He v/as not willing to risk being tried as a 
felon in a Federal court of justice, in the event of the "rebel- 
lion " being subdued. He wrote in his messages with a most 
violent mania of Yankees ; he multiplied threats of retaliation ; 
but his record on this subject, as we have seen, was that of 
swaggering menace, followed by prompt abasement. He 
was fierce and alarming enough in his words, but when it 
came to acts it appeared that his passion had given way, and 
that he had recovered the sweet and Christian temper of for- 
giveness. His stern self-will, his hauteur, his obstinacy were 
for his own people ; he could be very firm and very bitter, 
when he differed from a Southern officer, or when his own 
rightful counsellors approached him with respectful advice or 
remonstrance ; he could defy the indignation of his own peo- 
ple in maintaining a minion or a measure; while all that he 
had of graceful gentleness appeared to be reserved for the 
foe, and it is remarkable that he was never so politic and 
yielding as when the public enemy commanded him to come 
down from his high ground, to belie his pronunciamentos 
and to take back his threats. 

When Northern pictorials exhibited in Richmond were 
almost weekly filled with carefully executed wood cuts of 
gibbets and " rebels " dangling from them, not a single 
victim of retaliation had ever been claimed by the gallows. 



403 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

When tlie enemy destroyed the products of labor, devastated 
vast tracts of country, and drove out the inhabitants whom 
they did not destroy, Lee's army in Pennsylvania made levies 
on the inhabitants less severe than those which the Confede- 
rate government made daily on its own citizens. The policy 
of the Confederate invading armies had been the rigid protec- 
tion of the enemy's private property. The orders of General 
Lee in Pennsylvania had been, that " all persons complying 
with requisitions for supplies shall be paid the market price 
for the articles furnished ;" and where Confederate money was 
refused, they were to be satisfied with "a receipt specifying 
the kind and quantity of the property received or taken and 
the market price," which as a certificate of indebtedness, 
might, after the close of the war be recovered in gold or 
silver! Even but a little while before Sherman began his 
grand raid. General Early had an opportunity to devastate 
the country immediately about Washington, and yet had 
come back, looking mean for having burned a single house, 
and pleading as an absurd extenuation, a snobbish excuse, 
that this single act had been reluctantly done in retaliation 
for General Hunter's destruction of Governor John Letcher's 
house — as if no one else in Virginia or in the South had lost 
home or property by the enemy's act, and might not as well 
as the retired Governor whom Early avenged, have invoked 
the law of retaliation. 

But tame as was the government of Mr. Davis, on the 
subject of retaliation, and subdued as were the people of the 
South in their sentiment of retributive justice, the vast increase 
of the enemy's outrages, at the time of Sherman's march, and 
towards the close of the last year of the war, could not fail to 
effect some response. But it was a most singular response. 
Mr. Davis yet persisted in abstaining from open and regular 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 407 

retaliation. But while lie was thus silent, there were whispers 
in Richmond of strange and secret expeditions which were 
to burn Northern cities, to fire transports, to abduct hostages, 
and to give to the North, in a mysterious way, some taste of 
the horrors of war, to accomplish some degree of revenge for 
what the South was suffering. Nor were these whispers 
always low and covert. There were suggestions in the news- 
papers that the North might not have all of plunder and 
incendiarism, that houses in New York and Chicago might 
pay for those burned in Georgia, that the South was not as 
helpless in the way of revenge as her enemies supposed, that 
the trodden worm might turn and sting. The author recol- 
lects a remarkable article in that journal of Richmond, known 
peculiarily as the organ of Mr. Davis, and to which rumor 
assigned Mr. Benjamin, Secretary of State, as a regular con- 
tributor — the Sentinel — warning the North that but a few 
secret hands might suffice to commit her finest cities to the 
flames, and to inflict an injury as great as that which Sher- 
man's army had done to Atlanta. It was a new mode of 
warfare thus suggested ; it was, of course, not large enough 
to afl:ect, to any considerable degree, the fate of the contest ; 
it was not useful, and scarcely considered as such ; it was 
revengeful. 

We are sensible that a great eftbrt has been made to relieve 
Mr. Davis of responsibility for the various predatory and 
incendiary enterprises tc;ward the North, partial and unworthy 
correspondents as these were, for the atrocities of Sherman 
and Sheridan. These atrocities were bad enough ; but there 
were obvious open modes of retaliation, such as were allowed 
b}^ the honorable laws of war ; and it was, indeed, shameful, 
if Mr. Davis, not having the nerve to take these methods of 
manly and courageous retribution, not daring to doom to 



•iOS LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

death a single prisoner captured from Sherman's pillagers, 
and taken in the act of murder and felony, should yet have 
attempted to take revenge in a secret, cowardly and indis- 
criminate way, by promoting or countenancing conspiracies, 
to. burn houses and rob banks in the North, to lire upon 
transports, taking the risk of involving innocent persons, 
and to destroy, under cover of night, the shelters of women 
and children. Yet on this }Kxinfal subject wo must write the 
truth of history. To those who contend that these bad 
enterprises was the work of lawless and abandoned adven- 
turers, and that the Confederate Government had no 
part in them, we are forced to remark the signiticance of the 
fact that such a phase of' the war, on the side of the South, 
had never before taken place, as it might have done, had it 
proceeded only from a bad element in the population ; and 
that the number of these enterprises, theii' cotemporary 
relation, and the distinct period they occupied — being a 
series of acts rather than desultory performances — are evi- 
dences of a purpose and organization which, under the 
circumstances, only some official direction and authority in 
the South could have accomplished. 

Under the severe passport system of the Confederacy, 
scarcely a man could leave its limits without it being known 
to the authorities — and certainly not when he went through 
ports of the Confederacy, or through the lines of its armies. 
Passports were given in the utmost stinginess. Especially 
could not any officer or soldier oT the Confederate armies 
leave the country unless he obtained a passport from the 
War Department at Richmond, and then the business which 
took him from the regular military service had to be stated 
most explicitly. Yet the St. Albans raiders were found to 
be, mostly, commissioned officers in the Confederate army. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 409 

Yet tho party that, in the autumn or winter of 1864, made 
the "piratical" seizures in Chesapeake Bay, was of Confeder- 
ate soldiers, who had been furnished with passports from the 
War Department, and who had gone on their expedition 
directly through. General Lee's lines. And yet again the , 
emissary to burn Chicago — an officer of Morgan's command — \ 
liad gone through the port of Wilmington, and had exhibited 
there a passport signed by Secretary Seddon, besides possess- 
ing a general letter of introduction from the President 
himself. 

The whole truth of these vengeful episodes of the war, in 
relation to the responsibility of Mr. Davis, is that while he 
carefully abstained from furnishing any direct authority for ' 
them, he ^ave a secret countenance to them, under the system of ' 
passports in the War Department, and afforded their emissaries 
and agents facilities of departure from the Confederacy. The 
modus operandi has been privately described by a distinguished 
Congressman. The expeditions of oakum and turpentine 
were not very close secrets in Richmond, Not a few members 
of Congress were in fovor of almost any measure of revenge 
upon the North, even to the burning of hotels and steamboats. 
In some cases they applied to Mr, Davis to authorize such an 
illegitimate warfare, informing him of the expeditions that 
were plotted ; they were waived away or treated with non- 
committal speeches. . But "my experience was," said the 
member referred to, "that, although the commissions or 
details were not given, I never had any trouble in getting 
passports from tho AVar Department, and in getting 'the boys' 
through the lines." 

It was a paltry and detestable warfare ; on the part of Mr. 
Davis, a subterfuge, and, with respect to the whole Southern 
people, the evidence of a descent from the true spirit of the 



410 LIFE OF JEFFERSON PAYIS, WITH A 

war to a mean spitelulness, a disposition to wanton acts of 
revenge when they bad come to despair of success. It was a 
profound pity that Mr. Davis could not conceive — at least 
not execute — the just idea of a bold and open retaliation. 
The proper subjects of such retaliation were before him iu 
the miscreants of Sherman's and Sheridan's armies ; many of 
these were in his power as prisoners ; and to go behind them, 
and substitute in a secret way, as victims of his revenge, 
peaceful people in the North, was an unmanly device and a 
cruel absurdity. 

To the men who came to him with schemes of vengeance 
upon the enemy, Mr. Davis was frequently accessible without 
the intermediation of Congressmen or powerful friends. He 
had such a Aveak credulity that every adventurer, with an 
extraordinar}' and insane invention, found it not difficult to 
obtain his ear. Men who professed to have lound out some 
new form of liquid lire, patentees of extraordinary torpedoes 
that would destroy whole fleets, the Mississippi inventor of a 
flying machine to freight ordnance and to fire down upon 
the enemy at the height of half a mile, were mingled in tlie 
President's ante-room with men Avho proposed immense 
financial schemes, after the fashion of extracting sunbeams 
from cucumbers, and geniuses of di[)lomacy who were anxious 
to spend their time in the grand Hotel du Louvre and to 
test its famous vintages, whereof each glass Avould cost about 
three pounds of cotton. There never was a lack of "confi- 
dence-men " about ]\[r. Davis, and among them those wlu> 
proposed to dispatch the war by such means as we have de- 
scribed, and who even suggested viler works of destruction. 

With respect to the credulity that entertained such wild 
and reckless propositions, an incident happ(mcd in ivit-hmond 
that would l)e incredible but for the evidences whicli the 



SKCIIKT inSTOllY OF TUK CONFEDERACY. 411 

tiiitlior has from oiio of tlio })avt,i('s to it. ^Mlis incidcMit — or 
romance \vc may call it — has never beCoi-e been publislicd, 
and there are persons who, liaving thought it effectually sup- 
pressed and concealed, will be surprised to find at this day a 
minute account oC it. 

About the close of the year 1864 a stranger appeared in 
Richmond, of elegant dress and manners, speaking both 
Englisli and Italian, and whose dark and ])eculiar features 
supported the statement that he was a native of Italy, lie 
made himself exceedingly agreeable to the com])any at the 
Exchange llotcsl, although practicing something of the, re- 
serve of the nol)leman ; and lie was observed with not a 
little curiosity, until gossip sctthid on the discovery that 
he liad been seen to visit the State department, and that, 
therefore, considering, too, his d/'slm;/ue a])pearenc(!, he must 
be charged with a "mission " of im[)ortauco. Dining on(! day 
at the hotel, lie took advantage of a casual remark to 
draw into conversation Mr. Boteler, a member of Congress 
from Virginia, a gentleman who was supposed to have a 
great taste for learning. 'r\\o latter had notic^ed the sound 
escaping from a gas jet over the table. Tlio conversation 
turned upon the possibility of producing musical notes from 
such a source ; chemistry, acoustics and other branches of 
science were discussed, greatly to Mr. Botclcr's relish ; and 
at last the Italian gracefully insisted that the Congressman 
should accompany him to his room to witness some scientific 
experiments in which he was then engaged. ^J'he experi- 
ments were shown; Mr. Boteler saw at once that their adjust- 
ments were those of a scientific man, and for hours he 
roamed with his strange ac(|uaintance over the fields of 
science, literature, and art, wondering at his varied accom- 
plishments and fascinated by the cliurm of his manuei's. As 



412 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Mr. Boteler rose to depart, the stranger said with the air of 
communicating an important confidence : — " I have some 
thing to say to 3^011. The pleasure I have experienced in 
your company, and the position I know 3'ou occupy in vour 
government, encourage me to make a communication that 
■will interest you. I have a mission to Richmond, and I have 
already partially discharged it, and am now only waiting on 
your government for a sum of money that is necessary. I 
belong to the society of Carbonari/ It sympathizes with the 
Southern Confederacy ; and it is the only power in Europe 
that can compel its recognition, for Napoleon III. is secretly 
a member of the society, and dares not disobey its mandates. 
More than this" — and his brow darkened — " I hold in my 
hand the life of Abraham Lincoln ; the victim whom the 
Carhonari designate cannot elude them." 

What impression this important and terrible disclosure 
made upon Mr. Boteler is not known ; but he has never de- 
nied that he believed what the man told him. He even 
went to the extent of appointing a day to accompany the 
strange diplomat to the State Department, and actually en- 
gaged to add his influence to the impressions which the latter 
already reported he had made upon Secretary Benjamin, but 
to what extent of aiding the mission he did not mention. 
The day came ; Mr. Boteler attended at the hotel. The 
Italian was not to be found; he had left the hotel hurriedly 
that morning. Suspicions were aroused at the State Depart- 
ment. l\irsuit was ordered on all the roads leading out 
from Richmond, and fortunately the man, disguised as a ped- 
dler, was overtaken and arrested a few miles from the city. 
He resisted the officers stoutl}'" and with great insolence ; for 
some time the search to which ho was subjected revealed 
nothing contraband or suspicious; he was about to be dis- 



SECRET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDERACY. 413 

misused with apologies, wlicu one of the ofliccrs examining 
his boots discovered that the heels might be screwed off, and | 
found snugly ensconced therein several sheets of tissue paper i 
inscribed with plans of all the fortifications of Richmond,/ 
and with a correspondence giving all the details of its 
del'ences! The man was carried back to Kichmond as a spy. 
But he was never tried, never punished, and we do not know 
what became of him — the government being unwilling to 
give publicity to the incident, and anxious to hush ujj an\ 
affair, in which its credulity had been so ridiculously prac- ' 
ticed upon by an adventurer, who, at beat, was nothing more 
than a charlalan. 

The singular story suggests here a remark which we 
should make in justice to Mr. Davis — and that is with reier- 
euce to the allusion it contains to the assassination of Mr. 
Lincoln, There have been those who have believed — few 
believe it now — that the .strange warfare which the South 
proposed to conduct by secret agents and emissaries in the 
North, and in which we have seen Mr. Davis might have 
borne an indirect share, might possibly have extended to a 
conspiracy against the life of the Northern President. It is 
an absurd and foul imagination, without a particle of evi- . 
dence to support it, and with every probability pointing to , 
the contrary. Irregular and nefarious as we must consider 
the warfare that we have just described, as designed for an 
indiscriminate revenge upon the people of the North, rather 
^than for the legitimate ends of the war, or in the true and 
manly s[)irit of retaliation, Mr. Davis never could have 
carried it to the point of cold-blooded assassination, and that 
as against a President whose death could not possibly benefit / 
the South, and who, at the time, was more tolerable to it than 
the man who would succeed him. Briefly, Mr. Davis was 



41-i LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS. ^V1TIT A 

equally incapable of the crime and of the follj'- of such an 
act. As to the safety of !Mr. Lincoln, the author, living in 
Richmond during the war, and having access to most of its 
political conversation, never heard a threatening breath, but 
on one occasion, and that a playful allusion in the War 
Department, to capturing him and using him as a hostage to 
compel an exchange of prisoners. Possibly that allusion 
might have grown to a serious plan of abduction ; but even 
to this there is not the slightest evidence that Mr. Davis was 
a party. He bore Mr, Lincoln no ill-will, and it is reniavkable 
that he never designated him personally in his bitter criti- 
cisms on the conduct of his government, or reflected the popular 
disposition in the South to caricature and abuse him. On 
the contrary, he had a certain personal esteem for his rival at 
Washington. He regarded him as an honest, weak man. 
who had been used beyond his real disposition by the adroit- 
ness and malignity of party ;* he certainly had neither motive 
nor desire to injure him in his person, much less to kill him, 
and to inflame the North by a crime which civilization has 

* Since the war, Mr. Davis is thus reported in a conversation iu 
his prison at Fortress Monroe, referring to the assassination of the 
Xorthern President : — " Of ^NEr. Lincohi he spoke, not in atVeeted 
terms of regard or admiration, but paying a simple and sincere 
tribute to his goodness of character, honesty t>f purpose, and Chris- 
tian desire to be foithful to his duties according to such light as was 
given him. Also to his odicial purity and freedom from avarice. 
The Southern press labored, in the earlj^ part of the war, to render 
Mr. Lincoln abhorred and contemptible ; but such ellbrts were 
against his judgment, and met such opposition as his nniltiplied 
cares and labors would permit. From no ruler the United States 
could have, might terms so generous have been expected by the South. 
Mr. Lincoln was kind of heart, naturally longing for the glory and 
repose of a second term to be spent in peace.'' 



SKCUET IIISTOIIY OF TITE CONFEDERACY. 415 

stamped as the extreme of infamy. Surely the President of 
the Southern Confederacy has cnougli of deserved censure to 
bear, witliout throwing upon liim tlie sus}iicion of a foul 
crime, in which there is not a particle of evidence «)r a grain 
of consistency. 



416 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS WITH A 



CHAPTER XXVI, 

A New Breadth and Volume of Opposition to President Davis — Approach to an Internal Kevolu- 
tion in the Confederacy — A Coup d'Etat Threatened in Richmond — Animation of the Confede- 
rate Congress — Appeals to It by the Kichmond Examiner and Charleston Me.rcury — Senator 
Wigfall on President Davis — A Revolutionary Opportunity Lost by Congress — Movement to 
Make General Lee Military Dictator — He Resists it — In what Sense he Accepted the Office of 
Commander-in-Chief— His Private Understanding with Mr. Davis — The Secret and Curious 
History of a Military Dictatorship in the Confederacy — A Remarkable Correspondence of 
General Lee with the President — Some Peculiarities of the Character of Lee — His Quiet and 
Negative Disposition — General Lee Excessively and Servilely Admired in the South — Defects 
in his Character — A Great Man nevertheless — Why he Refused to be Used by the Opposition 
against Mr. Davis — How he Secured the Favor of the President — Their Personal Relations — 
Mr. Davis Affects not to be Sensible of the Revolutionary Design against his Administration — 
A Remarkable and Dishonorable Evasion by the President — His Correspondence with the 
Legislature of Virginia — His Secret Resentment of the Revolutionary Demands Made 
upon Him — Anecdote of Mrs. Davis — A Defiant Speech in the Executive Mansion — Scandalous 
Quarrel between the President and Congress — A Lame Conclusion of a Revolution. 

The disasters which ensued in the close of the year 1864, 
created a popular sentiment towards Mr. Davis, that needed, 
to rise to tlie force and dignity of a great revolution, but one, 
yet an indispensable condition — spirited leadership. They 
were the occasion of a breadth and volume of opposition to 
his administration that would have overwhelmed it, could it 
only have improved its organization, and secure the leader 
whom popular preference had designated. How near the Con- 
federacy came to an internal revolution, while it yet waged 
war, though feebly, against the public enemy ; how narrowly 
Mr. Davis missed the chance of dethronement ; and how 
critically short of success fell an effort to re-animate the 
flagging war in the South by the repudiation of Mr. Davis, 
have been but little known to the world. It is the period of 



SECRET HISTORY OP THE CONFEDERACY. 417 

the war of profouiidest interest, altbougli so unconspicuous or 
unknown in the common history of the contest. Behind the 
panorama of battles, a great struggle of moral forces was going 
on, imperfectly seen by the world, only scantily related in the 
newspapers, mistaken in the North as nothing more than a 
passing political effervescence in the South, one of its scan- 
dalous party quarrels, an episodial excitement, but which was 
really a movement of historical moment, and constitutes, per- 
haps, the most interesting passage in the stormy and unequal 
annals of the Southern Confederacy. 

Heretofore, in treating of the dulness and servility of the 
Confederate Congress, we have referred to a brief and excep- 
tional animation in it, towards the end of the war. It came 
from an opposition to President Davis, in which Congress 
was led iby a few men of power, incited by the press, and 
aroused and alarmed by the evidently declining fortunes of 
the Confederacy, If it had had the intellectual capacity and 
the nerve, or if certain conditions had been supplied, its dis- 
position would have carried it to the extent of a coup d'etat' 
against Mr. Davis. It Was astonishing how, in the last periods 
of the war, it threw off its servile habit to the President. It 
became as men often do who have long lived in mean and 
interested compliance, and then break away from it, sudden 
and violent in its resentment. In this disposition it Avas 
spurred by the newspapers. The Richmond Examiner wrote : 
" It will be for Congress to repair as it best can tlie mischief 
done the public service by a weak and impracticable Execu- 
tive ; to look at the reduction of our forces in the field ; the 
decay of military discipline; the demoralization of our armies, 
and the jeopardy to which our cause has been put by a long 
course of trifling conduct, childish pride of opinion, unworthy 
obstinacy, official obtuseness, conceit, defiance of public 
27 



■ilS LIFE OF JEFFEESOX DAVIS, AVITH A 

opinion, imperoiusuess, and despotic affectation on tlie part 
of those intrusted with the execution of the war." 

In less passionate phrase, but with not less determined pur- 
pose, the Charleston Mercury said : " Congress must assume 
its duties under the Constitution as an independent element 
of power. It must abandon the idea that it is only a secret 
power for registering the will of the President. It inwst bo the 
people standing forth in the light of day, clothed Avith the 
whole legislative power of the Government, and with their 
agent, the President, instrumental for their deliverance. . . . 
But if President Davis is to be treated as 'our Moses,' we 
reall}" do not see the use of Congress. If the people, through 
their representatives in Congress, are to exercise no power 
but at the bidding of the Executive, Congress is a nonentity. 
It is worse, it is the tool of the Executive by which the Con- 
stitution is practically overthrown, and a military dictator- 
ship established in its stead ; characterized by a base assump- 
tion of power on the part of the Executive, and a baser be- 
tra3'-al of trust on the part of Congress." 

But the opposition that thus sprang up in the later years 
of the war between the Confederate Congress and the Presi- 
dent, although stimulated by public opinion, and carried to 
the point of personal exasperation, was singularly without 
results. Some of this opposition in Congress was merely 
petulant. Mr. Foote represented it in the Lower House with 
voluble speeches, but without weight of character to impress 
even his shallovr audience. In the Senate, General Wigfiill, 
who had returned from the army to the^political arena, was 
more formidable. Perhaps the greatest orator of the South, 
he spoke with powerful effect, in language that could mount 
from the most even and classical flow of words to the most 
rugged and eccentric force, and sometimes penetrating his 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 419 

audieDCG with tlic electrical passion that would blaze in liis 
seamed and fierce face. The Eichraond papers feared to re-- 
port his bitter and vindictive speeches. Onl}'- the Examiner 
dared to tell of the fires in which he roasted that "amalo-am 
of malice and mediocrity," as he described the august person 
of Mr. Davis. But after all, these were fruitless censures and 
declamations, and, as we shall see, no positive measure of im- 
portance ever grew out of them, beyond a formal relinquish- 
ment of the control of military affairs to General Loc, which 
he practically never accepted. 

The fact is — and it is a fact that has never had its just pro- 
portion of mention in the current histories of the war — thei-e 
was in the last year of hostilities a serious and determined 
thought in the minds of the Southern people to get up a 
counter-revolution in the Confederacy, or, at least, to over- 
throw the military authority of Mr. Davis ; and that the Con- 
gress, while weakly assuming to respond to this design, 
really belittled and abandoned it and reduced it to nothing 
more than a wordy and indecent controversy with the Presi- 
dent. It never represented the depth of the public sentiment 
in the Confederacy on this subject. It fell utterly below tlie 
occasion, and, at last degraded an opportunity that might 
have produced the most important historical results and pos- 
sibly have saved the Confederacy, to a low competition in re- 
criminating and fruitless words. 

Every revolution, to be effective, must have distinctness of 
purpose, a plain and well-defined object in view, and, secondly, 
a leader capable of representing its design and of conveying 
its inspiration. It was on the second condition that the 
revolution, aimed at the maladministration of Mr. Davis, 
failed. The condition of the country iri Avhich was presented 
the necessity for such a movement, was obvious, and there 



420 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

-was no variety of opinion, among tliose who were aggrieved, 
as to the remedy. It was thus clearly indicated in a Eich- 
mond Jonrnal : "' A remedy for all discontent has suggested 
itself to the mind of every man who thinks, and has been ad- 
vised by a thousand mouths in the same breath. It is the 
creation of a new oflicer — a Commander-in-chief — who shall 
exercise supreme control over the armies and military aflairs 
of the Confederacy ; and the appointn\cnt of General Lee to 
be that officer. Such an act, if made in good faith, and 
solidly guarded against counteracting influences, would re- 
store public confidence, and give the country heart for a new 
effort equal to that which it has hitherto made. It would do 
more to bring down the price of gold and restore faith in the 
currency, than any law that the Secretary can devise, however 
wise in principle, and however ingenious in detail. The 
people would be satisfied that their means are not thrown 
away ; that the best use of their blood and property would 
be made that could be made. The adoption of such a measure 
would be the new birth of the Southern Confederacy. But it 
must be a real, substantial measure, guarantied by the repre- 
sentatives of the nation ; not a sham — not a duplex — general 
order, creating another Beauregard or Johnston " Department 
under the control of the President." And it must be adopted 
in time — that is to say, now." 

As the train of disasters had progressed, all eyes had been 
turned upon General Lee as the remaining hope of the Con- 
federacy. There was an anxiety to put on his broad shoulders 
the burden of the public cares, and to trust him for a sale 
deliverance. General Lee could not have been insensible to 
this trust and confidence of the peo})le. llis modesty could 
not have barred the knowledge of it; it was in the thoughts 
and speeches of all men; it was before his eye in every news- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY, 421 

paper he read ; it was tlie daily conversation of tlie people ; 
it reached his ear in every tone of expression. His judgment, 
ap})roved by so many events, his constancy under heavy 
trials, his lordly equanimity in the face of mis(brtuno, his 
economy and readiness of resources were the only signals of 
hope and deliverance in what was now the darkest and most 
painful time of the war. 

Briefly, there was but one influence in the Confederacy 
that could have fully carried out the revolutionary purpose 
of the people; that, Lee; — and he, unfortunately, and to a 
most curious extent, was found impracticable. He could not 
be brought to accept the position of Commander-in-chief of all 
the forces of the Confederacy. It is true he apparently ac- 
cepted this appointment. It was thus announced by him to 
the public : 

"In obedience to General Order, l!^'o. 3, from the Adjutant and 
Inspector-General's office, February G, 18G5, I assume command of 
the miUtary forces of the Confederate States. Deeply impressed wIlli 
the dirticulties and responsibility of the position, and humbly in- 
voking the guidance of Almighty God, I rely for success upon the 
courage and fortitude of the army, sustained by the patriotism nud 
firmness of the people, coulidcnt that their united etlbrts, under the 
blessing of Heaven, will secure peace and independence." 

But General Lee did not accept the posilion in the sense 
and to the extent that Congress had intended. lie insisted 
upon believing that the President was still "constitutionally" 
Commander-in-chief; and while accepting the position to which 
Congress and the country had called him, in terms so as to 
satisfy public sentiment, and end a controversy in which he 
was unpleasantly involved, he did it with a private reserva- 
tion to respect the views of the President, quite equivalent to 
the former written conditions that had been attached to tlie 
position. This explanation is necessary to understand a part 



422 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

of Confederate history Avliich lias been generall}' confused ; 
niid proofs of it "we shall soon see in the sequel, where the un- 
fortunate judgment of the President was still visible, and took 
its accustomed precedence in the conduct of military atiairs. 

The history of the movement to place General Lee in com- 
mand of all the Confederate armies, is as yet unwritten, and 
contains some facts as characteristic of the man as they are 
generally interesting. The movement, as conceived by the 
people, had, as we have seen, reall}- the breadth and incisive- 
ness of a revolutionary design; it was not less than to divide 
^Ir. Davis's administration and to appropriate to another 
his powers as commander-in-chief. Such an idea had vaguely 
floated in the public mind almost from the beginning 
of the war ; it was precipitated by the dissatisfaction which 
Mr. Davis particularly gave in his administration of the 
military ajffairs of the Confederacy; but even, apart from 
this, it may be said that a serious reflection occurred to 
thoughtful minds during the past civil struggle, and on 
both sides of it, whether the office of President, as combining 
that of commander-in-chief, was not really too large and 
incongruous, and whether, in case of actual war, the latter 
authority shouhl not be separated, or the powers of the 
President, as the leader and director of armies be held only 
as a convenient fiction of constitutional law, not designed to 
be practicall}', much less pretentiously and pragmatically, 
executed. But we have no space here for an excursion on 
the speculation, interesting as it is, and suggestive, somewhat, 
of an anomaly ; inasmuch as we believe the time has not yet 
come for the American people to elect their Presidents for 
the qualifications of militarj- leaders. 

Whether or not this qualification had been considered in 
the case of Mr. Davis, when he had been selected by a Sena- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 423 

torial cauoiis, in Washington, as Lead of tlie Southern Con- \ 
federac}'' — and on this question we have seen tl^e curious ■ 
evidence that the lirst programme of the conspirators had 
Mr. lluutcr, of' Virginia, for President, and Mr. Davis as 
commander-in-chief, the Latter being thus assigned in view 
of Lis military experience in Mexico — it is certain tLat he 
regarded Lis military office as no fiction, tLat Le insisted 
upon practically executing it, and tLat Lo disjilaycd it even 
in tlie smallest details, and to a point of insulYorable prag- 
matism. 

It Las been popularly reported that General Lee discour- 
aged the movement to invest him with the military authority 
of the Confederacy, because of scruples that it violated the 
letter of the Constitution. But such scruples, if they were 
entertained, were paltry and illogical ; for, we repeat, the 
movement was essentially one of revolutionary design, it was 
to be estimated as such, and the only question was whether 
General Lee would consent to assume the part assigned him 
on the supreme plea of the safety of the republic. He could 
not but be fully sensible of this plea, for no one knew better 
than he the military deficiencies of Mr. Davis, and his in- 
firmities as Commander-in-chief. To be sure, with his natural 
restraint of speech, he had never breathed a word of distrust 
of Mr. Davis ; but on this subject we need not the evidence 
of confessions. General Lee could not help knowing the 
incompetency of the President in military matters ; it had 
been brought home to him ; and he had had recent and 
singular experiences of it, since the summer campaign of 
186-i had forced him back to Eichmond. Since that time 
the President had been in opposition to him to an extent 
little known to the public. The people of Eichmond would \ 
Lave trembled luid tlicy known tLat after General Lee drew 



42-i LIFE OF JEFFERSOISr DAVIS, WITH A 

in his defences around the capital, and when Grant shifted his 
operations south of the James river, he wrote a private letter 
of Avarning to Mr. Davis, telling hini that he even then had 
but little hopes of holding the city, and that the loss of his 
communications, with the numerous cavalry of the enemy 
operating upon them appeared to be only a question of time ; 
but what would have been the feelings of this people, thus 
startled and distressed, to have known the additional fact that 
ISIr. Davis, so far from being properly impressed by this 
letter, despised its Avarning, and even resented it, in way of 
reply, by urging Lee to send troops from the small and 
critical force that scarcely covered the approaches to the 
cajntal to aid in defence of Charleston ! Yet such are the 
facts, strange and astounding as they may be. More than 
this, the President had embarrassed the plans of General Lee 
from the moment the latter had come directly under his eye 
in Richmond ; he had starved the army, by sustaining Com- 
missary Northrop, in the face of universal opposition to this 
singular creature ; he had almost destroyed its discipline by 
repeated pardons of deserters ; and when General Longstreet, 
Lee's most important lieutenant, had ventured to write as a 
commentary on one of these writs of pardon that four hundred 
men out of a brigade of twelve or fifteen hundred were at 
that time confined in the guard-house for desertion, thus 
indicating the condition of the discipline of the army, Mr. 
Davis had returned the paper with the imperial endorsement 
tiiat " the act of the Executive was not the subject of com/nent 
by an officer in the field !" 

Understanding then the condition in which the position of 
Commander-in-chief was urged upon General Lee, the ques- 
tion forcibly occurs why he should have so strenuously 
declined this solicitation of public confidence. The scruple 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 425 

that to accept it would contravene the letter of the Constitu- 
tion is, as we have seen, scarcely tenable ; and his opinion 
could not have been undecided of the necessity of a radical 
change in the military affairs of the Confederacy. General 
Lee declining the position of Commander-in-chief, and actively 
discouraging the only hopeful turn which popular confidence 
had taken in the extremity of affairs, yet refused to give, to 
the public, at least, any explanation of his course. It must 
be found and estimated in the character of the man. "We 
think we discover it in certain peculiarities of his character: — 
an anxiety to avoid the accumulation of responsibilities, yet 
coupled with a strict sense of the duty that has been accep- 
ted; an indisposition, not ungenerous, but severely resolved 
to do nothing more than is nominated in the bond of public 
service. It was as if he had said to those Avho proffered him 
the high trust of military dictator : — " Gentlemen, I accepted 
the position of the Army of ISTorthern Virginia ; I shall do 
my best by that army, I shall fight it to the best advantage ; 
it employs all my solicitude, its safety and success are my 
studies, night and day ; but I am not willing to go outside of 
that army to assume new responsibilities ; its limits confine, 
alike, my duty and my ambition." 

The future philosophic historian will probably make an 
elaborate, difficult judgment of this choice of General Lee. 
We shall not attempt here to anticipate that judgment; but* 
we indicate the subject as one for profound criticism. It 
was the moral effect that was mostly sought in the appoint- 
ment urged upon him. The Confederacy had to be saved in 
extreme and desperate circumstances ; and General Lee was 
the only man within its limits who could have commanded 
public confidence to the extent of I'eanimating the declining 
cause, and effecting another lease of the war. He did not do 



426 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVTS, WITII A 

it. It is remarkable of liim — and Ave searooly know Avlietlier 
in a good sense, for, however excellent may be a degree of 
reticence, a cold and barren silence is not admirable — that 
never, at any time of the war. and not even in the oomiiany 
of the most intimate friends on whom he might have bestowed 
his confidence without imprudence, did he ever express the 
least opinion as to the chances of the war.* Curiosity was 

* It is quite certain from all the evidences in the case, and espe- 
cially from his private letters bewailing the secession of his State, 
that General Lee's heart was not in the war. He aecopled it as a 
necessity, doing what it required exactly, and even punctiliousl}-, yet 
coldly. Since the war he testified faithfuU}^ to the Eeconstruction 
Committee that he had uever anything tctdo with the affairs and for- 
tunes of the Confederate cause outside the limits of his army. He 
proposed nothing of a general natvu'c in the war, with the single ex- 
ception of arming the slaves ; and this departure from his usual nega- 
tiveness, the writer has had ingeniously explained to him, to the 
ellbet that General Lee had a strong though secret atloetiou for Einau- 
cipation, and imagined an opportunity of accomplishing Ihat by a 
convenient circuit, together with whatever might be the particular 
benefits of the measure in recruiting his army. 

His lack of animosity in the war — as we find him protesting it to 
the Eeconstruction Committee, since the surrender of the Confeileracy 
— is illustrated 1\y a number of anecdotes. In another historical work 
by this author, are the following: — "In all his olVicial intercourse 
•and private conversation, he never breathed a vindictive sentiment 
towards the enemy who so severely taxed his resources and ingenuity, 
and put against hhu so many advantages in superior nutans and 
numbers, lie had none of that Yanhrc-phobia connnon in the 
Southern army ; he spoke of the Xorthern people Avithout malevo- 
lence, and in a style that deprecated their ]i(>lilieal dehisions rather 
than denounced their crimes ; and he generally referred to the enemy 
in quiet and inditVerent words, quite in contrast to the epitln>(s and 
aiiatluMnas whivh were popnlarly showered on 'tl\e Yankees." On 
one occasum. a spectator tlescribes him riding up to the llocklundgc 
Artillery, which was fiercely engaging the enemy, and greeting his 



SKCnpT HISTORY OF THE COm'EDERACY. 427 

kopt ontl.e stretcl,, but with little avail, to leavn I,is views of 
thcj.>-obableJate^th^ struggle. A Virginia newspaper 

sou R„i«,rt who, as aprivatc"^;;;;;;;;;^;;:;^!^^ 

!«• ..u,s I ow d'ye ,1„, father P was al, that K„bort had to sav 
a ..,„„„,,,.,, Ms duty at his guu ; and General r.ee replied ,,1' 

-J^l.t Of the eueu,y on the Kapidan, General Lee was stand ne-, 

es eouversn,, with two of his otHeers, one of whom was Un " , 
lo e ,H,t only a hard lighter aud a hard swearer, hut a cordial hater 
ot he 1 ankees. After a silence of some moments, the latter Im" 
h-oku,. a. the Yankees with a dark seowl on his faee, e. el" , ,' 
ost en,phat>eally, 'I wish they were all dead. General Le C h 
the graee aud n>anner peculiar to himself, replied, 'How en > 
ay so, (JeneraU Now I wish they were all at home, atte, i „ 
th u- own „„s,„ess, and leaving us to do the san.e.. II „„,, ,; d 
rt, When the first speaker, waiting until he was out o " ot 

r; ' n r;: '^'r ':^""'™' ^^^' "-' ^ "'^" "->• -- ^'' ';-< 

re ; r. tl'«'-'"»eudn,euf to the wish was afterwar.Is 

epeated to General Lee, in spite of his goodness and eustomarj 
I'.oof 01 l.rofan.ty. he could not refrain from Laughing heartily at the 
speech w uch was so charaeterictie of one of his&vo^te omcea-s." 

lo the last day of the Confeder.acy, General Lee appears to have 
m-esen-cd lus singular iudispositiou to incur r.spoLibiliV lu a 
recen remnnseence of Appomattox Court-house, General Grant i's 
reported to have said : "Lee r-emarked that he hoped I would 1 
as magnannnous terms to the other Confederate a mies as 1 is had 

oTl ' '"" '"" "" ^*"""'- 'f "° "■'*"• '° -™ "- Mends to 
the other arnnes m person, and prevail upon them to surrenden-.: 

lie said he would toisk to see 2£r. Davis fust '" 

To his retivemcut since the war, Geueml Lee has carried that 
h l^t'of ;';'""";' '' remarkable in hi.n. He is said to be in the 

XI. of u.tnsn^g to converse of the wav-a refusal which, we must 
sa^ hasnuuh more the appearance of an absurd prudery, an old- 
n.a^.sh ostnnate of proprieties, than that of a wise^nd dehcatet- 
sel^u Ihe la e war was a great historical event ; it not only supports 
conversation, but is a natural topic of the iutelligence of our times. 



428 LIFE OF JKFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

said, shortl}^ after the battle of the Wilderness, wlieu the 
public mind was in a momentary conflict of hopes and feai's, 
tliat there were men in the South, Avho would bestow half 
their fortunes for three words from General Lee, giving his 
opinion of the military situation. '' What does he think 
about ?" said the journalist referred to. "ISTone of us can read 
the thoughts of that impenetrable bosom. It is appropriate 
that the hero of this story should not be garrulous; the sad- 
ness of the time renders it fitting that the helmsman should 
guide the ship with few words spoken. * * * * When he 
first came to Richmond, they said he had no manners; he at- 
tended to his business, and spoke little. They sent him to 
Western Virginia — a small theatre, when Beauregard was at 
Manassas, and Johnston was at Winchester ; he went, and 
made no comment. The campaign failed — they called him 
Turveydrop — he did not attempt to excuse himself. Soon Ave 
find him in a blaze of glory, the hero of the battles around 
Eichmond. He is still silent. He marches to Manassas, and 
achieves another great victory. Not a word escapes him. He 



Why should General Lee shun intelligent references to the war ? 
Indeed, as a great actor in it, he owes, as a duty, both to history and 
to present public opinion, to give whatever information he can of it ; 
and, at least, he might be glad to illuminate some of its passages in 
cheerful conversation among his friends. But it is said that he will 
tolerate no conversation on the sul)iect. When visitors call on him, 
he makes it a precedent condition that they shall make no allusion to 
the war ; and whenever the subject is appi'oached, he turns the con- 
versation to the weather, the crops, or some other commonplace. A 
gentleman, hunting some historical materials, recently applied to him 
for aid, or, at least, for the benefit of some directions ; and he replied 
that he had not a scrap of writing about the war, not even a memo- 
randum book to preserve the dates of his battles, and that he could 
absolutel}^ furnish nothing from his recollections ! 



SECRET HISTORY OF TIIK CONFEDKRACY. 429 

takes Winchester, is foiled at Sliarpsburg for the want of men 
— defeats Burnside at Fredericksburg — Hooker at Chan- 
cellorsville — but he breaks not his silence. He has the terri- 
ble trial of Gettysburg — l^e only remarked. 'It was my fault' 
— and then, in the present year (1864), he has conducted this 
greatest of all his campaigns. Silent still. When will he 
speak? lias he nothing to say? What docs he think of 
our affairs? Should he speak, how the country would hang 
upon every word that fell from him !" 

We have recited, in another part of this work, many of the 
virtues of General Lee, and much that was admirable; and 
yet there are faults in this military idol of the South, Avhicli 
neither the partiality of friends, nor the glare of cotemporary 
eulogium, can entirely conceal or compensate. Ilis most 
notable defect was that he never had or conveyed any inspira- 
tion in the war. He had gone into it with but little personal 
animation, as a matter of severe and unwelcome duty, and he 
never attempted any animation of his troops greater than liis 
own. He was mechanical in the war; he never inflamed his 
troops; he had not that passion, that faculty of inspiration 
which is at once the most brilliant and valuable quality of 
the military commander. Nothing could be more character- 
istic of his quiet conception of the war, than when asked by a 
committee of the Federal Congress if the soldiers of the Con- 
federacy were not less acrimonious after the surrender, than 
were the people generally of the South, he replied : — " My 
troops looked upon the war as a necessary evil, and went 
through it." It was a low sentiment for an army ; and 
General Lee in his testimony evidently made the mistake of 
transferring his own passionless character to his soldiers. A 
great army must have an ins])i ration beyond the mei'c con- 
viction of performing a paintul dut}^; it must have resent- 



430 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

ment, passion, ambition, those emotions which stir men to die 
at the call of their leader; and, however admirable General 
Lee may have been, in his own person, from his quasi asceti- 
cism in the war, it is certain that in this respect he was 
defective as a commander. 

The discriminating reader will perceive that we are not 
writing an encomium of General Lee ; we are attempting a just 
account of the man, and we must maintain both the debtor 
and creditor sides in Fame's great ledger. We suppose there 
are some silly and coarse people in the world, who resent any 
shadow in tlie portraiture of the heroes they accept as depre- 
ciation ; who can bear nothing but the raw and garish colors 
of the dauber of praise; but we are persuaded that the true 
harmony of all human character, and its truthfulness require 
that mixture of light and shade which Nature displays even 
in the most perfect creations. The writer is an admirer of 
General Lee, but not a servile one. He perceives at least one 
serious shadow in his character, that marked and somewhat 
marred his career. It was a negativeness that bordered on 
a weak neutrality, which perhaps originated rather in a moral 
casuistry than in constitutional timidity. It Avas the lack of 
self-assertion rather through a morbid conscience, than a weak- 
ness of will or intellect; an indisposition of the man to go 
beyond a technical or professional line of dut}^, or to do any 
works of supererogation. Anyhow, we can but consider it a 
fault of character. It is true that General Lee may, to some 
extent, have been admirable in illustrating a type of great- 
ness without that vigorous, aggressive selfishness, that has 
usually imprinted history with remarkable successes, and 
which, according to a certain theory of human greatness, is a 
necessary element of it; but it is not admirable when this 
lack of selfishness becomes a weak amiability, the lack of in- 



sp:cret history of the confederacy. 431 

dividualism, of force, degenerating to a degree of uegativeness 
and indifference. We have no idea of disputing the great- 
ness of General Lee, and we mention an infirmity only to de- 
plore it by the side of so many virtues. If his sense of duty 
was morbid and paltry in some regards, yet the quality of 
mind from which these excesses sprung was a noble one; and, 
taken with the even development of his faculties and the 
purity of liis character, constituted that pleasing, Washington- 
like type of greatness, which partakes both of the moral and 
intellectual, and fairly distributes the practical virtues of lifcc 
No candid person will doubt the fair and honorable place 
which General Lee holds in the history of the war; although 
he may be permitted to doubt whether, with something of 
the egotism of genius, he might not have made it more bril- 
liant with respect to his own fame, and more useful in serving 
the true interests of his country. 

The man whom the South most loved, and would have 
most honored, refused the duties which they would have im- 
posed upon him, as supreme military ruler of the Confederacy. 
In the sense in wliich the office of Commander-in-chief was 
urged upon him, he would have absorbed nearly all the 
powers of Mr. Davis, the government of the Confederacy 
being almost purely military, and all its concerns capable of 
being rated as military affairs. But in the sense in which he 
accepted the nominal title, he took nothing from Mr. Davis's 
powers, still deferring to his authority, and using the discre- 
tion which the popular choice conferred upon him only in 
the tone of suggestion to the President, whom he still con- 
sidered his superior. 

The kindly relations between himself and Mr. Davis were 
not for a moment disturbed, although the partizans of the two 
were in the most violent collision. General Lee had from his 



432 LIFE OF JEFFEKSON DAVIS, WITH A 

natural habit of self-negation and deferential etiquette, tlie 
happy faculty of managing the President to a degree which 
others dared not attempt; and although he might not have 
been always guilty of calculating the vanity of the latter, the 
deference and respect he showed, bred out of his natural dis- 
position, were very soothing and grateful to Mr. Davis, 
and secured the greatest amount of Executive favor for the 
modest and uncomplaining commander. But whatever the 
motives that governed President Davis in his attachment to 
Lee, it was a fortunate instance of well-bestowed confidence. 
The Confederacy had reason to congratulate itself that, ibr 
once, the obstinacy of the President was set out in the direc- 
tion of what was right — that Eobert E. Lee was a single ex- 
ception to that caprice, which had removed Johnston, which 
had persecuted Beauregard, and which had once driven 
Stonewall Jackson to the point of sending in his resignation 
to the War Department ;* which had made such appointments 

* It has bcou stated in an unscrupulous panegyric of Mr. Davis, as 
additional evidence of his just perceptions of military worth, that he 
steadily sustained Jackson as well as Lee. Tlie statement has 
generally been accepted as true, in ignorance of the curious fact of a 
quarrel which Mr. Davis— or at least the AV^ar Department — had with 
this famous commander, and in consequence of which he sent in his 
resignation from the army as early as January, 1862. It was an in- 
stance of one of the characteristic dissensions of the President ; he 
wishing to put General Loring over Jackson in the campaign of the 
Yalley of Virginia (as he did "granny" Holmes over Price in the 
Trans-Mississippi), or, at least, refusing to subject the former to the 
authority that Jackson claimed to direct his forces. The letter of 
resignation Avas actually sent to Richmond. Jackson i^roposed to 
submit to '' the will of God," as he humbly interpreted what others 
considered the human injustice of IMr. Davis. Governor Letcher, 
hearing of such a letter, took the bold liberty of withdrawing and 
suppressing it ; wrote to Jackson to consider the claims which the Slate 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 488 

as Lovell, Bragg, Pcmberton, Ilood, Holmes ; and whicli only 
needed, to cap the climax of grotesque selections to command 
Confederate armies, that Northrop, Mr. Davis's last discovery 
of military genius in the guise of the civilian, should be sent 
to the field along with Henry A. Wise, the supreme absuniity 
of the war, a shallow-brained and large-mouthed charlatan — 
in peace, the elder edition of George Francis Train, Colorado 
Jewett, and other notoriety hunters — in war, a scare- crow 
made up of buckskin leggings, flint-lock pistols, and pro- 
fanity. 

But although there was no personal controversy between 
Mr. Davis and General Lee, the latter continuing undisturbed 
in the confidence and favor of the Executive, as commanding 
the army of Virginia, and the former being yet supreme mili- 
tary ruler of the whole Confederacy, it is interesting to observe 
what was the conduct of the President towards the last effort 
of popular opposition to his administration, which was practi- 
cally to depose him. There was no quarrel with Lee^ but 
there was a deadly one with the party that attempted to us<^ 
him, and to put him in the attitude of the superior of the 
President in military affairs. Yet the conduct of Mr. Davis 
was very singular, and is not easily understood, unless we 
regard him as attempting the most violent affectation. In his 
public commentary on what could not have been less than an 
attempt to degrade him, he exhibited no temper whatever ; 
he even made a show of alacrity to have Lee appointed com- 

of Virginia had upon him, and which were involved in liis relations 
with the Confederacy and Mr. Davis, however unpleasant they might 
he ; and, at last, prevailed upon him to withdraw his resignation, and 
to retain "the sword which might have been dropped in an obscure 
quarrel, and was yet to carve out the most brilliant name of the 
war." 

28 



434 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, "WITH A 

mandcr-iii-cliief ; but all the time aftecting not to understand 
tlie object which the popular mind had in this appointment — 
the real design of Congress. lie might have been unwilling 
to expose to the world the breadth and depth of the disaffec- 
tion of the Confederacy towards liimselfj the prospect of an 
intestine conflict in the midst of war; or he might have been 
unwilling to show to Congress how deeply he was wounded 
by its vote of want of confidence, and to give to his enemies 
the pleasure of seeing him suffer from shame or resentment. 
AVhatever the motive, the President took the movement 
against his authority with affected ease, and sought to evade 
its signilicancc by professing not to understand it, and ])utting 
upon it a construction of which it was logically and essentially 
incapable. Tt was an attempt at evasion, the most remark- 
able of all his sinister diversions on popular sentiment. 

The Legislature of Virginia passed a resolution declaring 
that "the appointment of General Eobert E. Lee to the com- 
mand of all the armies of the Confederate States would pro- 
mote their efficiency, and operate powerfully to reanimate 
the spirits of the armies, as well as of the people of the 
several States, and to inspire increased conlidence in the linal 
success of our cause." President Davis replied that he had 
desired to surrender all military affairs to General Lee, but 
that the latter persisted in his refusal to accept a trust of such 
magnitude. He said : " The opinion expressed by the General 
Assembly in regard to General R. B. Lee, has my full con- 
currence. Virginia cannot have a higher regard for him, or 
greater confidence in his character and ability, than is enter- 
tained by me. When General Lee took command of the 
Armv of Northern Virginia, he was in command of all the 
armies of the Confederate States by my order of assignment. 
He continued in this general command, as well as in the im- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 435 

mediate command of the Army of Northern Virginia, as long 
as I would resist his opinion that it was necessary for him to 
be relieved from one of these two duties. Ready as he has 
ever shown himself to be to perform any service that I desired 
him to render to his country, he left it for me to choose be- 
tween his withdrawal from the command of the army in the 
field, and relieving him of the general command of all the 
armies of the Confederate States. It was only when satisfied 
of this necessity that I came to the conclusion to relieve him 
from the general command, believing that the safety of the 
capital and the success of our cause depended, in a great 
measure, on then retaining him in the command in the field 
of the Army of Northern Virginia. On several subsequent 
occasions, the desire on my part to enlarge the sphere of 
General Lee's usefulness, has led to renewed consideration 
of the subject, and he has always expressed his inability to 
assume command of other armies than those now confided to 
him, unless relieved of the immediate command in the field 
of that now opposed to General Grant." 

We are almost forced to a sense of pity that so disingenuous 
a statement, and one of such duplicity as that contained in 
the correspondence indicated above, should have originated 
from the President of the Southern Confederacy. The posi- 
tion which General Lee held in 1862, described above as 
" command of all the armies of the Confederate States," had 
attached to it the condition "iciih the advice and direction of 
the President f and General Lee, having that circumscribed 
authority, was nothing more than part of " Mr. Davis's military 
family," his advisor or confessor ; while the present demand 
was that he should have independent, supreme control of the 
armies, and supercede the military authority of the President, 
Mr. Davis must have known the extent of this demand, must 



486 LIFE OF JEFFER30X DAVIS, WITH A 

have known that there was nothing conditioned of his " advice 
and direction" in the appointment now sought for Lee ; must 
have known that the pubHc sentiment was not to be satisfied 
■with the repetition of the folly of this duplex command, as in 
1862 — the wretched and worn farce of the alter ego in his mili- 
tary administration. He must have known the extent of the 
revolutionary design upon his authority ; any one who under- 
stood the force of words could see it ; any one Avho looked at 
the popular excitement could not help perceiving that the 
question was of the substance of the government, and any one 
whose vanity was so easily alarmed as that of Mr, Davis, 
could not have remained insensible of a conspiracy so great 
against his authority. It was an affectation of ignorance and 
of indifference, that, of itself, would have been pitiful enough, 
without the addition to it of studied misrepresentation — of 
what we are painfully compelled to designate a positive act 
of falsehood. 

But while Mr. Davis practised an appearance of careless- 
ness, in public, with regard to the popular discontent that 
threatened him so seriously, and while he found General Lee 
accommodating him with personal assurances of undiminished 
deference to his authority, he nursed, in ]:>rivate, a fierce and 
unrelenting resentment. He felt, although unwilling from 
shame or from policy to acknowledge it in public, that the 
Yiro-inia Legislature and the Confederate Congress had done 
him an unpardonable indignity in asking him to give up the 
o-reater })ortion of the authority which the early choice of the 
people had conferred upon him, and which he undoubtedly 
held under the letter of the guaranties of the Constitution. It 
was a deep and rankling wound. In his private conversation, 
and in his household, there were said to be unrestrained ex- 
pressions of rage and defiance. On one occasion, Mr. Henry, 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 437 

a Senator from Tennessee, wlao had formerly been the ablest 
and most eloquent advocate of the President in the hi<.her 
braneh of Congress, was paying a soeial visit to the Executive 
mansion, when Mrs. Davis said abruptly, "So you, too, Mr 
Henry, have turned against my husband !" " Madam " replied 
the Senator, "I voted that General Lee should be appointed 
commander-in-chief; not because I had ceased my confidence ■ 
in or respect for your husband, but the people required if 
their confidence, it appears, has not been so constant as mine •' 
and you should know that in matters of government, for a 
ruler not to have the people's confidence is almost as bad as 
to deserve the deprivation. At least, Mr. Davis may console 
himself with the consciousness that he has not deserved the 
condemnation which the people wills." -I think," replied 
the lady, warmly, "I am the person to advise Mr. Davis • and 
If I were he I would die or be hung before I would submit 
to the humiliation that Congress intended him " 

With Mr. Davis so much inflamed, in fact, by the action of 
Congress, and with that body, on the other hand, smartin. 
under the sense of defeat which it has sustained from the im' 
practicablcncss of General Lee, there was but little prospect 
o any serious and effective legislation for the remaining days 
of the Confederacy. An open war was declared between 
them soon after Aofiasa, of Lee. The work of makin,. law, 
and the public cares were subordinated to an angry, pe°rsonal 
oontroversy; messages and resolutions of censure were 
bandied between the President and Congress, while legislation 
stood at a dead-lock. It appeared they could agre'e ! on 
nothing, and that every incident of intercourse was a new 
e.xa.speration. It was a scandalous quarrel. Congress sat in 
secret session, but its doors were imperfectly deed, and the 
walls could not contain the screaming rhetorics from which 



438 



LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 



Mr, Davis suffered. The contest continued until public 
indignation became fatigued with both parties, and until 
the popular excitement, which had so recently aimed at 
the dignity of a revolution, was turned to disgust or indif- 
ference. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 439 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Eosigiiation of Mr. Sodtlon from Presiilmit Davis's Cabinet — Ugly Developments in tlie War 
Dei)artmcnt — IIow Mr. Soddon's Kesignation was Forced by a Delegation of Congress — Mr. 
Davis's Angry Defiance — Daring Uesponse of Congress — Condition of the Confederate Treasury — 
Empirical lleniodics in Congress — A Friglitful Tax Law — Tbo Infirm Temper of Congress — 
Heroic Appeals of tbe Press — The South yet far from Material Exhaustion — Remarkable State- 
ment of General Lee respecting the Resources of tlie Confederacy — Application of it to Theory 
of the Failure of the War — A Proposition to Arm the Slaves, a Desperate Remedy — Reluctant 
Recommendation of it by Mr. Davis — Summary of Arguments for and against it — Public 
Opinion Decided by a Letter from General Lee — A Gross Fallacy Contained in this Measure- 
Remarkable Concession of the Confederate Government to the Anti-Slavery Party of the 
North — Jellerson Davis, as an Abolitionist — Reflections on the Little Itegret Shown by the 
South for the Loss of Slavery — The Law of Negro Enlistments as Finally Passed — A Farcical 
Conclusion — A Negro Parade in Capitol Square — Congress Expiring in a Recrimination witl* 
President Davis. 

The wordy warfare of the last days of the Confederate 
Congress produced, as we have already indicated, nothing 
but public demoralization. In the midst of the greatest dis- 
tresses and abuses, it was able to effect no considerable meas- 
ure of re-organization, to execute no practical scheme of re- 
lief. Nothing was done, beyond som.e partial and imperfect 
laws that accomplished but little good, to strengthen the 
army, to improve the condition of the treasury, or to revive 
the confidence of the peo))lc. We have remarked in the pre- 
ceding chapter, that, in the midst of necessities so great. Con- 
gress did not produce a single measure of importance, and we 
have shown how it was defeated in its controversy with the 
President, A slight exception to tliis observation may be 
named in the forced resignation of Mr. James Seddon, Secre- 
tary of War; but as the design to reform Mr. Davis's Cabinet 



440 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

was arrested there, and as Mr. Seddon resigned from a large 
share of personal motive, andAvithout consulting the President, 
the event had neither great effect nor significance. 

But it was the occasion of a manifestation of temper on the 
part of Mr. Davis that was not without interest. Mr. Seddon 
was one of tlie President's "pets;" he had succeeded Mr. 
Benjamin in the office of Secretary of AVar; an utterly heart- 
less politician, a conspirator by nature, of little ability but 
vfith great disposition for intrigue, a man always in the con- 
dition of servility to some other, and one not above the sus- 
picion of administering his office for private gain, he had be- 
come in his office as odious to the public as he had proved 
useful to Mr. Davis. Mr. Foote had brought out by a com- 
mittee of investi2:ation in Congress a curious incident in his 
administration — a small circumstance, but one so neatly 
proved and so sharply defined that it gave a flital wound to 
his reputation. It appeared in unquestioned evidence that 
while Mr. Seddon had been impressing the grain of the Vir- 
ginia farmers at nominal prices, he had sold his own crop of 
wheat to the government at forty dollars a busliel, then the 
equivalent of two dollars in gold ; and that the price thus es- 
tablished thereafter for this staple, and which he had raised 
for his own selfish profit, had had the effect of suddenly de- 
preciating the whole currency of the Confederacy. In a fail- 
ing and sensitive currency subject to alarms it is surprising 
Avhat vast and sudden effects may be produced by apparently 
the slightest causes. In the summer of 1864, the paper 
money of the Confederacy had shown some symptoms of re- 
vival, and was then received and paid at the rate of twenty 
for one. But when it was known that a member of Mr. 
Davis's Cabinet who was supposed to know the true state of 
affairs had doubled the price of wheat, the twenty dollar scale 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 441 

was discarded every where, and in a single day, as it were, 
without any military disaster, without any other event than 
that in the wheat market, the currency of the Confederacy fell 
from twenty for one to forty for one ; in effect cheating Mr. 
Seddon out of his profits, but inspiring a popular distrust of 
the money, from which it never recovered. 

In January, 1865, the Virginia delegation in Congress ad- 
dressed to the President an earnest petition for a change in 
his Cabinet, expressing their want of confidence in the capa- 
city and services of its members. They represented that the 
public spirit was depressed, that the apprehensions for the 
public safety were increased by the be/ief that the public mis- 
fortunes were at least partially the result of mismanagement, 
and that one of the most important measures to be adopted 
was a reconstruction of the Cabinet. Mr. Seddon, being a 
Virginian, and recognizing the censure as coming from Vir- 
ginians, and therefore as peculiarly applicable to himself, and 
conscious of the excessive unpopularity he had incurred in 
the administration of his office, determined to resign, and thus 
appease the public indignation against himself. 

Mr. Davis was unaware of this determination of his Secre- 
tary until his letter of resignation was sent in to be accepted. 
He declined to accept it, and earnestly besought Mr. Seddon 
to continue in office, as his resignation would be interpreted 
as a triumph of Congress and would found other insolent de- 
mands on the Executive. Mr. Seddon insisted on resigning ; 
he had no hope of repairing his reputation, and it is not im- 
probable that he wished to withdraw from the catastrophe he 
saw approaching, and to retreat to the seclusion of his country 
home. But Mr. Davis was determined that the event should not 
bear any significance of concession on his part, either to the 
demands of Congress or the clamor of the people. He went out 



442 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

of his way; lie made a violent occasion in a correspondence 
publislied in the newspapers to declare that Mr. Seddon's 
resignation would in no manner change the policy or course 
of his administration. In words not to be mistaken he thus 
threw down his defiance to Congress and the country, and 
practically proclaimed that he held his government above 
public sentiment and inaccessible to its appeals. 

To this defiance Congress replied with a spirit which, if 
translated into action, would have been admirable enough. It 
declared, through an address of the Virginia delegation, reply- 
ing to the President's ill-tempered publication : " That the 
friendly advice of a delegation, or the more authentic counsel 
of Congress, should be repelled in such a manner, with such 
claims, and at such a time, is a circumstance which we deplore 
for the sake of the countr}'-, and, let us add, for the sake of 
the President. It will not provoke us to a resentfal contro- 
versy ; it cannot abate our devotion to the public cause ; it 
does not alter our principles of action. But since, by the 
publication of this correspondence, members of the Cabinet 
have (probably with their consent) been placed before the 
tribunal of public opinion, at issue with the Virginia delega- 
tion upon the question whether they should have remained or 
been retained in office, notwithstanding the condition of our 
country and all the indications of public sentiment, this dele- 
gation do not recoil from that issue." 

In the midst of other distresses, the condition of the Con- 
federate Treasury had fallen to a point from which it was next 
to impossibility to recover it. The extent of the public grief 
and alarm on this subject may be judged from the measures 
which were proposed to meet the crisis. There were still 
vast stores of 'cotton and tobacco in the South, and it was pro- 
posed in Congress, to lay a special and heavy export duty on 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 443 

them as long as there was a chance of working them to market 
throuoh the blockade. There were members who favored 

O 

3'et more exacting measures, who thought that in the altered 
condition and circumstances of the government, it should 
take the cotton and tobacco, as it already did the wheat, corn, 
meat and other products of the country. The latter had been 
taken at rates far below their market value — why should the 
cotton and tobacco be spared ; and if the government did not 
take them the enemy would, and the accumulation of these 
staples at different points were already standing invitations 
to the rapacity of the Federal armies. Another measure of 
financial relief was debated. It was proposed to call upon 
the States to give up to the Confederate government the 
benefit of their separate State credits ; but this application 
had been made more than a year before to the extent of 
having the States endorse the Confederate debt, had been 
rejected by most of them and favorably answered by a 
few, and it was scarcely to be supposed that they were better 
prepared now to signify thus their confidence in the issue of 
the war, and to pin their credit on Mr. Memminger's notes. 
The result was that neither scheme of finance referred to was 
perfected by Congress ; that on this subject, as on others, it 
squandered public expectation in wandering and fruitless 
debate. There were other schemes to be counted by the dozen, 
and not necessary to be repeated here. They were merely 
evidences of the uncertainty of Congress. Nothing was actu- 
ally done to relieve the Treasury. Indeed it was not until 
March, 1865, that Congress agreed upon a measure of taxa 
tion ; and the monstrous provisions of this — such as a tax of 
twenty-five per cent, on all profits of business which exceeded 
twenty-five per cent, of the capital invested in it, and a tax 
of twenty-five per cent,, payable in kind, on all the gold and 



444: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

silver in the Confederacy — could never have been carried 
into execution if the enemy had not intervened to end, alike, 
all the troubles and all the aspirations of the Southern Con- 
federac}^ in the early days of April, 1865. On the subject 
of Confederate finance, there, was to the end of the war a vast 
expenditure of ingenuity ; but it is remarkable that in the 
last session of Congress, not a single measure was produced 
on this subject beyond a tax bill. The empiricisms displayed 
in this Congress ; the violence of reforms suggested, but never 
carried out ; the increased volume of debate, yet the scanti- 
ness of results ; a condition in which legislation was no longer 
matured through leaders, but lost in the differences of the 
views of individuals, and in which all party organization was 
gone but that which was held together by the sympathy of 
opposition to Mr. Davis, suggested that weak and wandering 
condition of mind which precedes settled despair, that vague 
uneasiness in which men, expecting great misfortunes, lose 
their readiness and self-possession, and cannot bear to have 
either their hopes or their fears defined. 

While the aftairs of the Confederacy thus visibl}^ declined, 
and while the neo;lects and distresses of its srovernment were 
thus unrepaired or unrelieved, it is to be remarked that the 
press of the South never ceased its appeals to the public. It 
was the one element in the contest that, to the last, never lost 
its integrity or fervor. The ability, the genius, the dexterity 
which the newspaper press illustrated in educating and in- 
spiring the South in its great contest of arms, especially when 
viewed in contrast with the intellectual barrenness it has shown 
in later years, constitutes really a historical feature of the war. 
The Eichmond press had a power and brilliancy that were 
remarked over the world ; and it might scarcely be recognized 
in the servile and insipid papers now issued from the dimin- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 445 

islicd capital of Virginia. During the war it boasted, among its 
contributors, such names as John M. Daniel, John Mitchell, 
Eobert W. Hughes, Patrick Henry Aylett and Judah P. Ben- 
jamin. The pens of such men were busy to the last, in the 
attempt to animate the South and to improve its confidence in 
the war. 

Within three months of the fall of Kichmond, one of its 
journals printed the picture which has been so repeatedly 
upheld in these pages — sufficiency of all the material re- 
sources of the South to continue the war, provided only the 
spirit of the people could be revived, so as to use them. It 
said: — "Several persons have employed themselves lately in 
preparing statistical tables of the wealth, food, and fighting 
men, remaining in the Confederacy, subject to the command 
of the government. They prove conclusively that the 
amount of all these things is still very great — enormous — suf- 
ficient to support far greater efforts than the Confederacy has 
yet made. To question the accuracy of their facts is far from 
our purpose ; indeed their truth has been so long and so well 
known to all who have examined the subject, that the proof 
and tabular exposition seem to them quite superfluous, and 
even uninteresting. Material exhaustion is not yet felt by 
the mass of the nation ; not felt in the slightest or most dis- 
tant degree. It will never be felt. But the nation may soon 
suffer from moral exhaustion. The country will never be 
unable, if willing, to supply the wants of its government, but 
^it may easily become unwilling ; and then no pressure of 
legislation will be of much value. Pressure will obtain only 
those few drops which trickle from the squeezed orange, and 
soon get nothing at all. These Southern States are lands 
of Goshen. — A hot summer and a fertile soil will always pro- 
duce a superabundance of bread and meat. They contain 



44:6 LIFE OF JEFFERSON" DAVIS, WITH A 

five millions of the best fighting people in the world, and 
can always supply three hundred thousand arms-bearing men 
in the prime of life. The extent of their territory is so great, 
that its real occupation by the armed forces of two or three 
such nations as that we are fighting is inconceivable. The 
enemy is perfectly aware of the fact, and does not base his 
hope of subjugation on the practical application of main 
strength, but upon the submission of the will, and consequent 
inability, to contend to the last extremity, which he expects 
to see at some time spread over the land. That is, in fact, 
the only contingency on which the subjugation of the South 
is possible. The Southern States are in no danger so long 
as the spirit of the people is what it has hitherto been. But 
let us not be blind to the truth, that there is such a thing possi- 
ble as a decay of national confidence and a death of national 
spirit. There is such a thing as heart-break for nations as for 
individuals. There are such things as hopelessness and de- 
spair, lethargy and apathy. A conviction that all that it will 
do must come to naught, all sacrifices it can make be rendered 
vain by an irremediable cause, — a conviction resting on 
rational grounds, both of reflection and experiment, will pro- 
duce this state of feeling in any nation, however heroic and 
however obstinate." 

Neither was the picture, nor the reflections subscribed to it 
overdrawn. Ou the 11th of Februar}'- 1865, General Lee 
wrote deliberately and conscientiously in one of his general 
orders : — " Our resources, fitly and vigorously employed, are 
amphy With what consistency, in the face of this supreme 
and unquestionable testimony — the testimony of a man who 
never made an extravagant statement, and Avhose word no 
one in the South had ever disputed — could it be said that the 
Confederacy surrendered, not more than sixty days later, from 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 447 

accnal physical inability to carry on the war ! The fact is 
that those who hunt excuses for the loss of the Southern Con- 
federacy in merely external circumstances, and neglect the 
maladministration of Mr. Davis and its consequences in their 
estimate, are generally persons who seek to cover up by a 
gross and impudent fallacy their own implication in the fol- 
lies of the President of whom they were partizans, and to con- 
ceal their own share of responsibility in the work of destruc- 
tion. 

In the list of reforms and rumors debated in the last session 
of Congress, and bandied between that body and the President, 
one more remains to be noticed — a measure after the fashion 
of the legislation we have already, vast in conception, but an 
utter failure in execution. It was a measure of profound 
interest; and although a dwarfed birth was the consequence 
of the excessive labor of debate, the whole subject is so vitally 
connected with moral questions in the war, that we cannot 
pass it with the slight notice it has heretofore obtained from 
those who are inclined to measure the spaces of history by 
the external event produced, rather than by the principle 
involved. 

We refer to the proposition to arm the Negro slaves in the 
South, and to enlist them in the Confederate service. Such 
an idea had, as early as the autumn of 1864, found some ex- 
pression in the newspapers, the uniform theory being that the 
Negro soldier should be emancipated at the end of the war, 
and that this prospect would hold out an appropriate reward 
for his services, and stimulate them to the highest decree of 
efficiency. But the discussion was general, speculative, and 
several months elapsed after the first allusions Ave have 
described, and before the arming of the slaves was considered 
as a probable measure, and had become a subject of practical 



448 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

argument. The public mind liad to be brought up by degrees 
to the cairn contemplation of a reform so radical ; had to be 
delicately managed to support so great a surprise, and to put 
itself on familiar terms with so thorough a change of its 
traditions and old associations. 

Mr. Davis slowly and reluctantly progressed to the open 
advocacy of the employment of the slaves as soldiers. In his 
official message of the 7th of November, 1864, he thought that 
no necessity had yet arisen for resort to such a measure ; but 
he added : " Should the alternative ever be presented of 
subjugation, or of the employment of the slave as a soldier, 
there seems no reason to doubt what should then be our 
decision." As events progressed, and under influences here- 
after to be indicated, Mr. Davis was forced from this equivo- 
cal position and was found recommending to Congress the 
enlistment of tlie Negro in all the breadth of this measure ; 
and, at last, when in March, 1865, an imperfect bill was passed 
to obtain Negro recruits, he wrote, with but little consistency 
in view of his earlier message, although justly enough with 
reference to the delay: "Much benefit is anticipated from this 
measure, though far less than would have resulted from its 
adoption at an e.arlier date, so as to afford time for their 
organization and instruction during the winter months." 

Meanwhile the question of employing Negro soldiers had 
been debated from a variety of stand-points, with great ex- 
citement, and upon a singularly nice balance of arguments, 
affirmative and negative. In favor of the measure it was 
urged that the Negro could be effectively used as a soldier, 
that the experiment had already been determined in the 
Northern armies, where two hundred thousand Negroes had 
already been put under arms and had proved serviceable sol- 
diers ; that the military experience of all nations had shown 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 449 

that a severe discipline was capable of making soldiers from 
almost any linrnan material ; and that the South could use the 
Negro to better advantage as a soldier than the North could ; 
that it could offer superior inducements to his good service 
by making him a freeman in his own home, instead of turn- 
ing him adrift at the end of the war in a strange and inhos- 
pitable country, and that it could furnish him officers who 
could better understand his nature, and better develope his 
good qualities than could his military taskmaster in the 
North. These views were not a little plausible, and they 
founded some pleasant calculations. It was estimated by 
Secretary Benjamin that there were six hundred and eighty 
thousand black men in the South of the same ages as the 
whites then doing military service. Again, if there was any 
doubt of their efficiency at the front, and until they were 
educated to bear the fire of the enemy there, they might be 
employed in other parts of the military field — they might be 
put in the trenches; and General Ewell, who commanded the 
immediate defences of Richmond had declared that with a 
Negro force thus employed on the interior lines of the capi- 
tal, fifteen thousand white soldiers might be liberated from a 
disagreeable duty and be used by Lee on the enemy's front. 
As to emancipation as a reward of the Negro's services, it 
was said that Slavery was already in an expiring condition 
in the South on account of the shock given to it by the inva- 
sions and raids of the enemy, and the uncertainty of this 
property represented in the low prices it brought, the price 
of an averao-e slave such as would have commanded before 
the war twelve or fifteen hundred dollars being now scarcely 
more than fifty dollars estimated in gold ; and it was argued 
with great ingenuity and not without force, that, by a meas- 
ure of emancipation tlie South might make a virtue of neces- 
29 



450 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

sity, remove a cause of estrangement, however unjust, between 
it and the Christian world, and possibly neutralize that large 
party in the North, whose sympathy and interest in the war 
were mainly employed with the Negro, and would cease on 
his liberation. 

These arguments were not without weight. Yet the reply 
to them was scarcely less in volume and power. It was said 
tliat the measure would be virtually to stake success in the 
war on the capacity and fidelity of Negro troops of which the 
South had no assurance ; that they would desert at every 
opportunity ; that the white soldiers of the South would never 
bear association with them, and that their introduction into 
the army would be the signal of disaffection and mutiny; that 
the proposed liberation of slaves becoming soldiers was to 
give up the most important of the objects of the war, and to 
^abandon every ground assumed at its commencement : that 
it would be a fatal confession of weakness to the enemy, and 
that it would be a resort to a low and dishonorable alliance 
far more shameful that that of which the North had been 
guilty in recruiting its armies. The cry of " Abolitionism" 
was used with most effect. It was declared that the South 
Avas about to inflict upon itself the very evil to avoid which 
it had professed to the world that it had separated from the 
North, and that thus while lowering the dignity of its cause it 
would also divest it of its justification, and expose it to history 
as a useless and wanton controversy. 

The tremulous balance of the Southern mind on the subject 
of Negro enlistments — the almost equal match of arguments, 
for and against — was determined by a single event, by the 
influence which one man in the Confederacy threw into the 
scale. It illustrates, indeed, the wonderful power which 
General Lee had to command the opinions and confidence of 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 451 

the people of the Soutli, and suggests what must have been 
his vast superiority to Mr. Davis in this respect, that when, 
on the subject referred to, departing from his usual reticence 
or his indifference to the general affairs of the Confedracy — 
probably for a peculiar reason, as we have elsewhere inti- 
mated — he recommended, in a plain, open letter, the arming 
of the slaves, from that moment the measure should have 
obtained a decided, almost overwhelming popular majority in 
its favor, and been urged on Congress by the almost unani- 
mous voice of the countr}''. Before the declaration of Lee, 
the measure had been in such suspense that it was difficult to 
say on which side lay the majority of public opinion. Now 
Congress could have no doubt of the popularity of the 
measure ; the recommendation of General Lee had reinforced 
its advocates, and had reconciled nearly the whole country to 
to it ; and the only thing to fear was that the large slave- 
holding interest in Congress would prove too strong for both 
Lee and the people. 

In a letter to Mr. Barksdale, a member of the House of 
Representatives, from Mississippi, and a confidential friend of 
Mr. Davis, General Lee declared that no time was to be lost 
in securing the military service of the slaves. He said : — 
" The enemy will certainly use them against us if he can get 
possession of them ; and as his present numerical superiority 
will enable him to penetrate many parts of the countrj^, I 
cannot see the wisdom of the policy of holding them to await 
his arrival, when we may, by timely action and judicious 
management, use them to arrest his progress." He advanced 
the opinion from his militarj' experience, that the Negroes, 
under proper conditions, would make efficient soldiers, re- 
marking that they furnished a more promising material than 
many armies of which we read in history, that owed their 



452 LIFE OF JEFFEESOX DAVIS WITH A 

efficiency to discipline alone. On the subject of emancipation, 
and the stimulants to be supplied to obtain recruits, he 
wrote: — "I think those who are employed should be freed. 
It would be neither just nor wise, in my opinion, to require 
them to serve as slaves. The best course to pursue, it seems 
to me, would be to call for such as are willing to come with 
the consent of their owners. An impressment or draft would 
not be likely to bring out the best class, and the use of 
coercion would make the measure distasteful to them and to 
their owners. I have no doubt that if Congress would 
authorize their reception into service, and empower the 
President to call upon individuals or States for such as they 
are willing to contribute, with the condition of emancipation 
to all enrolled, a sufficient number would be forthcoming to 
enable us to try the experiment. If it proved successful, most 
of the objections to the measure would disappear, and if indi- 
viduals still remained unwilling to send their negroes to the 
army, the force of public opinion in the States would soon 
bring about such legislation as would remove all obstacles." 

It is a matter of greatest surprise that there should have 
occurred, neither to General Lee nor to President Davis, 
while occupied Avith the various arguments we have related 
on either side of the question of Negro enlistments, the great 
and important fallacy so obviotisly contained in such a 
measure. This fallacy was overlooked, and yet is not too 
much to say that it constitutes a page for the most important 
reflections on any part of the war. It is true enough that the 
object of the war was not the tenure of property in slaves, as 
claimed only by a narrow, insolent and selfish aristocracy of 
/" slave-holders, and to the extent of a remark of the Charleston 
Mercury, that " if the slaves were armed, South Carolina could 
no longer have any interest in prosecuting the war." But 



SECRET HISTOR,Y OF THE CONFEDERACY. 458 

although Negro enlistments and consequent emancipation 
could not be construed— as we have seen the attempt made — 
to be an abandonment of the object of the war, which surely 
had higher objects than to protect a certain species of 
personal property, yet it is profoundly remarkable that this 
measure, in the shape prepared by President Davis and Gen- 
eral Lee, contained a full justification of the Anti-Slavery 
party in the North, and to that extent, at least, surrendered 
the contest. 

It cut under the traditions and theories of three generations 
in the South. The one essential, exclusive argument, outside 
of all technical reasonings, which supported Negro slavery in 
the South, was that that condition accommodated the fact 
of the natural inferiority of the Negro, that he obtained his 
best development, his maximum of civilization and happiness 
in the condition of a slave. Be3^ond this argument, all that 
has been written or spoken of " the Slavery Question," may 
be taken for technical defences — as, for instance, the guar- 
ranty of the Constitution ; for if the slave-holder was morally 
a criminal, he was no better than any other criminal, who 
might boast or congratulate himself that the law did not 
reach his case, that the statute was defective— or as excesses 
or palliatives ; for if the slave was well treated, contented, etc., 
this could not compensate for his loss of liberty any more 
than in the case of any other prisoner, if the fact was that he 
was captured from the condition to which nature had assigned 
him. Briefly, i\xQ justification of slavery in the South was the 
inferiority of the Negro ; it being inferred from this that 
nature designed him to live in subordination to the white 
man, and that he was better placed as a slave for his own 
happiness than if thrust into a violent equality with a 
superior race. Yet we find Mr. Davis and his counsellors, in 



454 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

their scheme to use the Negro as a soldier side by side with 
the white man, thrusting liim into an unnatural equality, and, 
in the promises of emancipation, virtually proclaiming that 
his former condition as a slave was an unhappy and injurious 
one, and holding out to him his freedom as a better state, 
something most desirable, a reward, a blessing, calculated to 
make him risk his life for it. It was a fatal inconsistency. 
By a few strokes of the pen the Confederate government had 
subscribed to the main tenet of the Abolition party in the 
North and all its consequences, standing exposed and stultified 
before the Avorld. We repeat that the only ground on which 
the South could justify Slavery, was that it kept the Negro in 
his proper situation, in the condition that was best for "him, 
where he reached his highest moral, intellectual and physical 
development, and could enjoy the full sum of his natural 
happiness ; in short, that while living with the white man, in 
the relation of slave, he was in a state superior and better for 
him than that of freedom. Yet this important theory was 
destroyed by the Confederate government when it proposed 
that the Negro's freedom should be given to him as a reward 
for services to his country ; and the very assumption of his 
capacity and fidelity in this servdce was the best argument 
that could be presented to show the injustice and oppression, 
and crime of slavery. If the Negro was fit to be a soldiei', he 
was not fit to be a slave. If his freedom was to be offered as 
a reward, then it was a desideratum, a boon — it was a better 
state — a natural good of which the laws of the South luid 
deprived him. Now this was tlie whole theory of the Aboli- 
tionists; and the world found it subscribed to, in circum- 
stances which might be thought to compel sincerity — in what 
might be easily construed as an honest confession in a season 
of affliction and misfortune — b}^ no less a person than 
Jefferson Davis. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 455 

The concession whicli wns thus made to the Abolition 
party of the North by the Confederate Government on the 
subject of Shivery probably had an effect of which the mind 
of the South was unconscious, to reconcile it to the final loss 
of its peculiar institution that was soon to ensue in the con- 
clusion of the war. It explains to some degree the easy 
assent which the South gave to the extinction of Slavery at 
the last, and indicates the progress which had been made in 
lessening its attachment to an institution which it had oiice 
esteemed essential to every interest it had on the face of the 
earth, and which had been placed as the corner-stone in the 
structure of the Southern Confederacy. There is no more 
just and profound surprise to the thoughtful historian than 
the little regret which the people of the South have mani- 
fested for the loss of Slavery, as compared with other conse- 
quences of the failure of the Confederate cause — and that too 
after the long and impassioned defence of this institution against 
the Abolitionists of the North ; and the suggestion forcibly 
Ofi-m-s how much of this defence must have been conven- 
tional and constrained, due simply to the resentment of 
Northern interference in this system of labor, rather than 
giving proofs of real attachment to it. Any how the little 
sorrow that the South has bestowed upon the death of Slavery, 
compared with other losses of the war, proves conclusively 
enough that it was an inferior object of the contest — surely 
not the chief cause and end of the war, as Northern writers 
have been forward to misrepresent. 

But we return from these speculations to notice the practi- 
cal result from them in the action of Congress. The result 
was, as we have intimated, to the last degree paltry and im- 
perfect. For three months Congress labored in debate and 
had convulsive intercourse with the President ; and the birth 



456 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

was a bill passed not until the 7tli of March 1865 — not mucli 
more than three weeks before the fall of Richmond — that 
brought the whole matter to an impotent and ridiculous con- 
clusion. The law, as finally enacted was merely to authorize 
the President to receive into the military service such able- 
bodied slaves as might be patriotically tendered by their mas- 
ters, to be employed in whatever capacity he might direct ; 
no change to be made in the relation of owners of slaves, at 
least so far as it appeared in the bill. The fruits of this 
emasculated measure were two companies of blacks organized 
from some Negro vagabonds in Richmond, which were al- 
lowed to give balls at the Libby Prison and wore exhibited 
in fine, fresh uniforms on Capitol Square, as decoys to obtain 
sable recruits. But the mass of their colored brethren looked 
on the parade with unenvious eyes, and little boys exhibited 
the early prejudices of race by pelting the fine uniforms with 
mud. The paltriness of the law referred to, Avas a stock of 
ridicule and the occasion of a new contempt for Congress. It 
was seriously interesting only as showing that vague despei'a- 
tion in the Confederacy which caught at straws; an indication 
of the want of nerve in it to make a practical and distinct 
effort for safety ; and a specimen of those absurdly small laws 
of Congress, measured with reference to the necessities for 
which its legislation was invoked. 

All hopes of reviving the war by any action of Congress 
had faded out and disappeared. The day of its final dissolu- 
tion was near at hand ; and yet there was nothing but trifles 
and quarrels to the end. It is, indeed, remarkable of the 
Confederate Congress, which had lived so dishonorably, giv- 
insf so much of imbecile and disgraceful record to the South- 
ern story of the war, that it should have fitly expired in a 
weak and disreputable recrimination with President Davis. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 457 

Its last official act was to I'aisc a committee in the Senate to 
report upon a message in which Mr, Davis had reproved it 
for designing to abandon the affairs of the Confederacy, and 
to leave important interests unprovided for, as the enemy ap- 
proached and pressed u})on the capital. lie Avrote : '■' Tlie 
capital of the Confederate States is now threatened, and it is 
in greater danger than it has heretofore been during the war." 
Congress replied that it had finished its legislation, th;i,t it 
proposed to adjoui-n, and that whatever culpability there 
might be for any improvidence of the Government, it did not 
lie at the doors of the legislative department. It adjourned 
on the I8tli of March, 1865, unwilling to witness the end 
wliich it saw a}'»])r()aching, and repeating the cowardice of its 
flight in 1862, refused to take any official lot in the final 
catastrophe. Thus meanly expired a legislative body, re- 
markable in the annals of the world for its weakness and 
ignorance, whose record was a constant degradation of the 
Confederate name, and whose composition and nature will 
afford to the future historian an especial study among the 
contradictions and curiosities of the late war. 



458 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

An Unexpected Test of the Spirit of the South — The Fortress Monroe Peace Commissiou — Mr. 
Blau-'s Visit to Kichmoiid — Keview of Peace Movements in the Confederacy — Critical Analysis 
of the Peace Party in the South — Three Elements or Classes in it — Mr. Davis Ultimately 
Joins the Third Class of Peace Men — Governor Vance's Exposition of this Class — Correspond- 
ence between him and President Davis — The Idea in this Correspondence Kenewed, a Ye.ir 
thereafter — The Fortress Jlonroc Connnission, the Result — Secret Design of Mr. Davis to Kill 
off the Peace Movement — IIow this Design was Served by the Official Report of the Com- 
missioners — A Day of Speech-Making in Richmond — Speeches of Jlr. Hunter and Mr. Benja- 
min — Unexpected Appearance of Mr. Davis in Metropolitan Hall — The Most Eloquent Speech 
of his Life — It was never Reported — Summary of it — A Brief Excitement in the South Followed 
by a Failure of Resolution — The Character of the Southern People Impaired — Fatal Defect of 
Mr. Davis as a Ruler in bis Ignorance of the People — His Power to Inspire tho People Gone — 
A Curious Reason for tho Failure to Re-animate the South after the Fortress Monroe Com- 
mission — Doubts Thrown on the Truth of the Report of the Commissioners — Singular and 
Remarkable Delusion of the South as to the Consequences of Submission — Extent of the False 
Trust in the Enemy's Generosity — "Subjugation" Treated as a Scare-Crow — Hopes of Saving 
Something from the Abolition of Slavery — A Singular Conversation of President Lincoln — 
An Amiable Episode of the Fortress Monroe Commission — Impressive Warnings in Richmond 
Against a " Deceptive Reconstruction',' — To what Degree the South was Conquered bj' Antici- 
pations of the Generosity of the North — A Justification of the War on Retrospect — Examples 
of the Credulity of the South — How it has Lingered Since the War. 

In tlie mouth of February, 1S65, an event cainc from an 
unexpected quarter, and apparently of the enemy's own 
motion, which, for a time, afforded some prospect of re- 
animating the South in the war, and arming it with a new 
resolution to continue it, even despite the disaffection and 
distrust whicli had been produced by its own government. 
This event was the memorable Fortress Monroe Commission ; 
the declaration there of the harsh and arrogant ultimatum 
of the North ; the rebuff" of tlie Soutliern Commissioners ; and 
what was apparently the authentic statement of the conse- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 459 

qnences of the surrender of the South, which were thought 
by some persons, calculated to raise the efforts of the Con- 
federacy, regarding it, as they did, in that condition and 
spirit where the insolent demands of an enem^'- are more 
likely to give increase of resentment and resolution thnn to 
compel assent ^nd produce the indifference of despair. But 
this test of the true condition of the Southern mind — the 
question whether the point to which its hopes had sunk, 
was that where an increased menace would sink it still 
further, or that where it would cause it to rebound — was yet 
to be determined ; and the decision was eagerly looked for 
by parties standing on each side of the question, and each 
looking at it from his own stand-point of speculation. 

In the preceding month of January, Mr. Francis P. Blair 
had visited Richmond, coming from Washington ; and 
although he disclaimed any official character, his earnest 
application to Mr. Davis for a letter that would signify his 
willingness to send or receive commissioners authorized to 
treat of peace, disclosed a distinct purpose in which he must 
have been serving the views of the Federal Government. 
The letter was given. But it was in Mr. Davis's usual 
equivocal and circumlocutory way when approaching the 
powers at Washington ; it being addressed to Mr. Blair him- 
self, and containing sucli a specimen of diplomatic certainty 
and perspicuity, as that he was willing to " renew the effort 
to enter into forms by which the public interests are to be 
subserved." The result of the irregular and tentative mis- 
sion of Mr. Blair, was that President Lincoln and his Secre- 
tary of State, Mr. Seward, were met near Fortress Monroe 
by three commissioners appointed by Mr. Davis (Yice-Presi- 
dent Stephens, Senator Hunter, and Judge Campbell) ; that 
a conference of some hours took i^lace; and — what is most 



460 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

remarkable — that although this coiifereuce resuUed in not a 
sino-le article of ao-reement, it ended with mutual satisfaction 
— the South promising itself that a sine qua non so harsh as 
that which was submitted would give fresh inspiration to its 
war, and the North (or the dominant part}^ there) congratu- 
lating itself that the Washington Government might be 
trusted to abate none of the objects of the war, to show no 
weak mercy to "rebels," who might be regarded as already 
driven to the attitude of supplication, but to exact all de- 
mands it had ever made upon an enemy now sure to be 
conquered. 

But before proceeding to the minutes of this conference, we 
must go back over a considerable space in the chronological 
order of the war. The true internal history of the Fortress 
Monroe Commission commences more than a year Uaterj than (;^(>/VU^-^ 
the time it actually met on board a steamer moored near the ^ 

shores of Virginia. From the time the military fortunes of I \4 t-'^ 
the Confederacy commenced to decline, and in exact Knverse ) ^ 
proportion to this decline, there had grown up a peace party 
in the South proposing in reality terms of submission, but 
scarcely venturing in public to do more than insist that the 
Richmond Government should open negotiations Avith the 
enemy on the pretence, which it knew to be filse but Avhich 
served its purpose of deceiving the people, that terms much 
short of subjugation could be obtained. We are thus de- 
scribing the majority of the peace party in the South. But 
that party was really composed of three elements ; and it is 
from failure to observe the distinctions of opinion in it. the 
want of a correct analysis, that it has suffered from a con- 
fused and sometimes unjust commentary from most of the 
writers who have assumed to criticise it. First, there was 
the old Union party proper, the " submissionists," who 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. -161 

formed tlie early bulk of wliat came to be generally desig- 
nated as the peace party of the Soutli. becondly, there was a 
lai-ge number of persons acting Avitli tlicm to the point of 
asking that an effort should be made at negotiations, under 
the delusion, which their more designing associates busily 
practiced upon them, that terms might be obtained from the 
enemy short of the sacrifice of the independence of the South. 
•AVhat was the hypocritical pretence of the "submissionists'l- 
was tlie sincere belief of those we may call the "optimists." 
This second element in the " peace movement " thus named 
for convenience, became, as we shall hereafter see, considera- 
bly enlarged and powerful towards the end of the war under 
the operation of peculiar influences. But there was a tliird ^ 
party or class in this movement, yet more remarkable and 
of the most curious construction — wliich so far from coin 
ciding with the "submissionists" was really the party of 
extreme Southern views, representing the most determined 
spirit of resistance to the North, yet joining persistently in 
the demand for peace negotiations, on the calculation that 
the result of them in what they imagined would be the rejec- 
tion of all propositions other than the abject submission and 
ruin of the South, would inflame the war, and strengthen the 
resolution of the Confederacy to continue it. 

To this third party belonged Governor Vance of North 
Carolina ; and to it was finally won over President Davis, 
but not without difficulty, and' not until near the close of the 
war. A correspondence between these men, more than a 
year before the date of the Fortress Monroe Commission, fur- 
nishes the proper logical commencement of the peace move- 
ment, so far as Mr. Davis was involved in it, and should be 
studied as a preface to the negotiations that preceded but a 
few weeks the close of the war. The letter of Governor 
Vance was brief and pithy, as follows : — 



462 life of jeffersoisr davis, with a 

State of ]^ortu Carolina, Executive Depart^ient. 

Kaleigii, December 30, 1863. 

His Excellency President Davis : My Dear Sir :— After a careful 
consitleration of all the sources of discontent in Xorlli Carolina, I 
have concluded that it will bo impossible to remove it except by 
making some ettbrt at negotiation with the enemy. The recent action 
of the Federal House of lleprosentatives, though meanhig very little, 
has greatly excited the public hope that the jSTorthoru mintl is looking 
toward peace. I am promised by all men who advocate this course, 
that, if fair terms are rejected, it will tend greatly to strengthen and 
intensifjf the war feeling, and will rally all classes to a more cordial 
support of the Government. And, although our position is well- 
known, as demanding only to be let alone, yet it seems to me that for 
the sake of humanity, without having nny weak or improper motives 
attributed to us, we might, with propriety, constantly tender negotia- 
tions. In doing so, we would keep conspicuously before the world a 
disclaimer of the responsibilit}^ for the great slaughter of our race, 
and convince the humblest of our citizens — wiio sometimes forget the 
actual situation — that the Government is tender of their lives and 
happiness, and would not prolong their suflerings unnecessaril}- one 
moment. Though statesmen might regard this as useless, the people 
will not, and I think our cause will be strengthened thereby. 1 have 
not suggested the method of these negotiations, or their terms. The 
effort to obtain peace is the principal matter. Allow me to beg your 
earnest consideration of this suggestion. 

Yer}^ respectfully yours, 

Z. B. Yance. 

On the 8th of January, 186-i, President Davis wrote a long- 
letter in reply, only some passages of wliich it is necessarv to 
consider here. He wrote : — " We have made three distinct 
efforts to communicate with the authorities at Wasliington, 
and have been invariably unsuccessful. Commissioners were 
sent before hostilities were begun, and the Washington 
Government refused to receive them or hear what tlu^y had to 
say. A second time I sent a military officer with a com- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 463 

munication addressed by myself to President Lincoln. The 
letter was received by General Scott, who did not permit the 
officer to see Mr. Lincoln, but promised that an answer would 
be sent. No answer has ever been received. The third time, 
a few months ago, a gentleman was sent, Avhose position, 
character, and reputation were such as to insure his reception, 
if the enemy were not determined to receive no proposals 
whatever from the government. Vice-President Stephens 
made a patriotic tender of his services, in the hope of beino- 
able to promote the cause of humanity; and although little 
belief was entertained of his success, I cheerfully yielded to 
his suggestion, that the experiment should be tried. The 
enemy refused to let him pass through their lines, or to hold 
any conference with them. He was stopped before he 
reached Fortress Monroe, on his way to Washington. To 
attempt again (in the face of these repeated rejections of all 
conference with us) to send commissioners or agents to pro- 
pose peace, is to invite insult and contumely, and to subject 
ourselves to indignity, without the slightest chance of being 
listened to. . . . 

" I cannot recall, at this time, one instance in which I have 
failed to announce that our only desire was peace, and the 
only terms which formed a sine qua non were precisely those 
that you suggested, namely, 'a demand only to be let alone.' 
But suppose it were practicable to obtain a conference 
through commissioners with the Government of President 
Lincoln, is it at this moment that we are to consider it desir- 
able, or even at all admissible? Have we not just been 
apprized by that despot that we can only expect his' gracious 
pardon by emancipating all our slaves, swearing allegiance 
And obedience to him and his proclamation, and becoming, in 
point of fact, the slaves of our own Neo-roes." 



464: LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

It appears from this correspondence, that Mr. Davis was 
then unwilling to essay negotiations with Washington ; and 
from a close inspection of his letter, we cannot see that he 
fully apprehended Governor Vance's proposition. He rather 
manifested the idea to take the peace movement in its direct, 
literal and, perhaps, honest sense, as comijig from that second 
class we have named in the composition of the peace party of 
the South — men who sincerely believed that the war might be 
mitigated or some of the consequences of surrender saved, if 
an opportunity could be secured to communicate and nego- 
tiate with the enemj'. Mr. Davis appears to have been 
sufficiently disabused of such confidence in the generosity of 
the enemy, and greatly anxious to expel it from the popular 
mind of the South. He never contracted that confidence 
again ; for although we have the storj^ of Messrs. Clay and 
Thompson attempting to communicate with President Lincoln 
from Niagara Falls in the mid-summer of 1864, it is now well 
known that that so called " peace commission" was ratlier an 
experiment on the Democratic party of the North, then about 
to engage in a Presidential campaign, than the expression of 
a real desire to get to Washington and obtain the ear of 
Abraham Lincoln. After the correspondence with Governor 
Yance, Mr. Davis does not really appear in the operations of 
the peace party until more than a year, fraught with great 
fortunes, had elapsed — the date of the Fortress Monroe com- 
mission ; and then only as representing that third element of 
the party we have described. 

As the falling fortunes of the war pressed upon him, and as 
the clamors of the people assailed him, he appeared to the 
public to have retracted his opposition to the peace move- 
ment, and to have altered the views which he had expressed 
in the letter from which we have quoted. But the real fact 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 465 

was, that, Avithoiit giving np anything of his opinions of the 
unyielding disposition of the enemy, he had taken the sudden 
resolution of trying Governor Vance's plan of consenting to 
an effort at negotiation with the enemy, which would appease 
the malcontents, and, if successful, as he liad reason to expect, l^'^l" 
would intensify and strengthen the war feeling in the South. 
Thus, while in the minds of some leading persons in the Con- 
federacy, the interview of the Southern commissioners with 
President Lincoln and Mr. Seward was a sincere experiment 
on the sentiment and temper of the Northern Government, 
Mr. Davis had, in fact, consented to it with the especial view 
of obtaining an ultimatum from the enemy so harsh as to 
exasperate the people of the South, and to put before them a 
plain alternative, which he calculated would be a continua- 
tion of the war, or an unconditional submission too absolute 
to be entertained. The secret thought in Richmond of the 
Fortress IVfonroe commission was thus, strangely enough, to 
kill off the "peace conferences" rather than to improve 
the growing tendency to negotiation. In some respects 
Mr. Davis calculated aright; but the scheme of re-anima- 
tion utterly failed for peculiar reasons, which remain to be 
examined. 

Of what took place at Fortress Monroe the following 
account was given under the official imprint of the Confed- 
erate Government, and published to the people of the South 
as a sufficient history of the negotiation : — 

" To the Senate and House of Bepresentatives 

of the Confederate States of America : 

" Having recently received a written notification, wliich satisfied 

me that the President of the United States was disposed to confer, 

informally with unofficial agents that might be sent by me, with a 

view to the restoration of peace, I requested Hon. Alexander H. 

30 



4C>IJ LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. WITH A 

Stophous, Iloa. E. M. T. Iluutor. aud IIou. John A. Cainpboll. to 
jirooeed tlu'oxigli our lines, to hold a eonfei*ence ■with Mr. Liucoln, 
or sxich porsouji as he might depute to represent him. 

"I herewith submit, for the information of Congress, the report 
of the eminent citizens above named, showing that the enemy refuse 
to enter into negotiations with the Confedei-ate States, or any one of 
them separately, or to give our people any other terms or guarantees 
than those which a conqueror may grant, or permit us to have peace 
on any other basis than our unconditional submission to their rule, 
coupled with the acceptance of their recent legislation, including an 
amendment to the Constitution for the emancipation of Xegro slaves, 
and with the right, on the part of the Federal Congress, to legislate 
on the subject of the relations between the wliite and black popula- 
tion of each State. 

''Such is, as I understand, tlie etiect of the amendment to the 
Constitution, which has been adopted by the Congress of the United 

Stat.es. 

••Jeffeesox Davis. 
"ExECrTivE Office, Feb. 5, ISGo."' 

ElCHMOXD, February 6rh. 
Tb the President of the Confederate States : 

Sir — Under your letter of appointment of commissioners, of the 
8th. we proceeded to seek an informal couterence with Abraham Liu- 
coln. President of the United States, upon the subject mentioned in 
the letter. A confeivnce was gmnted. and took ph\ce on the 30ih, 
on bixud the steamer anchored in Hampton Eoads, where we met 
President Lincoln and Hon. ^Mr. Seward, Secretary of State of the 
United States. It continued for several hours, aud was both tall aud 
explicit. We learned from them that the message of Pi-esident Lin- 
coln to the Congress of the L'uited States, in December last, explains 
clearly his sentiments as to the terms, conditions, and mode of pro- 
ceeding by which peace can be secured to the people ; and we weiv 
not informed that they would be modified or altered to obtaivi that 
end. We understood from hhu that no terms or proposals of am' 
tivaty or agreements looking to an tiltimate settlement woidd be 
entertained or made by him with the authorities of the Coufedei-ate 
States, because that would be recognition of their existiince as a 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 467 

separate power, which, under no cireunistances, would be d(Mie ; and 
for like reasons, that no such terras would be entertained by him 
from the States separately ; that no extended truce or armistice, as 
at present advised, would be granted or allowed, without the satisfac- 
tion or assiu-ance in advance, of the complete restoration of the 
authority of the constitution and laws of the United States over all 
places within the States of the Confederacy ; that Avhatever conse- 
quence may follow from the re-establishments of that authority, it • 
must be accepted ; but all individuals subject to the pains and penal- 
ties under the laws of the United States, might rely upon a very 
liberal use of the power confided to him to remit those pains and 
penalties if peace be restored. Daring the conference, the proposed 
amendments to the Constitution of the United States, adopted by 
Congress on the 31st, were brought to our uoticc. 

These amendments provide that neither slavery nor involuntai-y 
servitude, except for crime, should exist within the Ihiited States or 
any place within its jurisdiction, and Congress should have power 
to enforce the amendments bj^ appropriate legislation. 

Of all the correspondence that preceded the conference herein 
mentioned, and leading to the same, you liave heretofore been in- 
formed. 

Very respectfully, your obedient servants, 

A. H. Stephens, 
E. M. T. Hunter, 
J. A. Campbell. 

According to this report, tlie commission bad accomplished 
what Mr. Davis had desired in his scheme to revive or to in- 
crease in the South the animositj^ of the war. In substance 
it was the distinct, enhirged and insolent demand of Mr. Lin- 
coln and his government, that the South should submit 
unconditional!}^ to the rule of the Union and conform to the 
advanced position of that government on the subject of 
Slavery, which included an amendment to the Constitution 
abolishing this domestic institution of the South, a bill estab- 
lishing a Freedmen's Bureau, and much other incidental 



468 LIFE OF JEFFEKSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

legislation, stipulated as "laws of the United States," looking 
to a new construction of relations between the Nesfroes and the 
Avhite men of the South, and to consequences even beyond a 
full concession to the original party of Abolition in the North, 
This was the version which the commissioners evidently 
desired should be made of their report b}^ the popular mind 
of the South ; to which, indeed, it was more addressed than 
to ]\Lr. Davis. The report was carefully prepared, and every 
word of it appears to have been skilfully adjusted. It was 
designed to exclude all hopes of further negotiation for peace, 
and to summon the South to new and desperate resolution. 
It was a very scant document, and made tlie impression that 
those who represented the Federal government were singu- 
larly harsh and formal. There was nothing to break the 
force with which Mr. Davis had designed that it should strike- 
the imagination of the South, and excite alike its resentment 
and its resolution. 

As if in evidence of the design we have imputed to the 
government of Mr. Davis, the return of the commissioners 
Avas at once made the signal of numerous addresses to the 
people, in which the President himself, and such of the 
members of his Cabinet as had an)- faculty for oratory, took 
the stand of the speaker, and in Iheir speeches, joined in the 
attempt to rally the spirit of the people with precisely the 
same argument — that almost any increase of trial and suffer- 
ing in the war was preferable to submission to the insolent 
demands of the enemy. It was an attempt to infuse into the 
war a new element of desperate passion, as the re})!}' of 
spirited men to the ai'rogance of a hated foe. The people of 
the South were to be tauglit to believe that the result of the 
conference at Fortress Monroe prov-ed that every avenue to an 
honorable peace was closed, but what might be hewn out by 



SECRET HISTORY OF TUE CONFEDERACY, 469 

the sword, and that they were lighting not only for the 
original pri/e of the war — independence — but for safety fi'oni 
the worst consequences in case the enemy should obtain their 
submission. Such a conclusion, it was argued, should nerve 
the arms of those who had hitherto been steadfast in the figlit, 
and, on the other hand, rescue those who had been enfeebled 
by the imagination of reconciliation and generosity on the part 
of the enemy, and secure their adhesion to the prosecution of 
the war. 

A day was taken for public speaking in Riclimond, and 
calls were published in the newspapers for the people to hokl 
mass-meetings, and renew their testimony of devotion to the 
Confederacy. In the African church, in the theatre, and in a 
large hall in the ca[)itol, speakers' stands were erected and 
occupied the same day ; business was suspended ; and a 
long procession, in which walked some of the cabinet ofiicers 
of Mr. Davis, designated as orators of the day, passed 
through the streets. The African church — whicdi tlie wliite 
politicians of Eichmond had for years been in the habit of 
appropriating for public meetings, as if there was no invasion 
of sanctity of so lowly a house of God as that wliere Negroes 
worshi[)ped — was packed with an excited audience; its foul 
air rent with shouts and huzzas, and its crazed floor shaken 
under applause. The speaking continued until near sunset, 
and was resumed, at night. The newspapers devoted ahnost 
their whole space to reports of the day, and described it as a 
triumph, a resurrection, a regeneration of the war no longer 
to be doubted. It was curious to observe how the difl'ereiit ■ 
orators served the ])ur[)ose wliich had brought them togx^thcj". 
Mr, Hunter, one of the commissioners, addressed the muUi- / 
tude, and gave them to understand that Mr Lincoln had 
turned from the propositions of peace with cold insolence 



;_■) 



470 LIFE OF JEFFERSON" DAVIS, WITH A 

an insolence which he described as monstrous, since the 
Federal President '•'might have offered something to a people 
with two hundred thousand soldiers, and such soldiers under 
arms." The frightful apparition of subjugation was next 
introduced. " I will not attempt," said Mr. Hunter, " to 
draw a picture of subjugation. It would require a pencil 
dipped in blood to paint its gloom." Mr. Benjamin, Secretary 
of State, followed with yet more artful appeals to the multi- 
tude. He ali'ected to witness the animation which he designed 
to produce, and spoke of it with exciting praises. " How 
great the difference in one short week ! It seems an age, so 
magical has been the change ! Hope beams in every coun- 
tenance. We now know in our hearts that this people must 
conquer its freedom or die ! " It is remarkable that the 
Confederate Congress, a few days later, adopted the same 
adroit style of taking for granted a change of popular senti- 
ment. In an address to the people, it declared : " Thanks be 
to God, who controls and overrules the counsels of men, the 
haughty insolence of our enemies which they hoped would 
intimidate and break the spirit of our people is producing 
the very contrary effect." 

To the volume of rhetorical appeal, President Davis him- 
self added the most remarkable speech of his life. Two or 
three days before the meeting at the African church, and not 
more than six hours after the return of the commissioners, he 
had ascended the speaker's stand in the most unexpected way. 
It was the last public speech of tlie President of the Southern 
Confederacy, but, in all its circumstances, the most splendid 
and dramatic oration he had ever made. He appeared before 
the public without anj^ announcement whatever. A meeting 
had been called at Metropolitan Hall, On Franklin street, by 
Governor Smith, to adopt resolutions on the part of the State 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 471 

of Vir2;iina, responsive to what had taken pLace at Fortress 
Monroe; and there was a general surprise of the audience 
when the thin figure of Mr. Davis, in a worn suit of gray, 
stalked into the hall, and ascended the speaker's stand. 

We have heretofore spoken of the power of Mr. Davis as 
an orator. On this occasion the author sat near him, and he 
does not recollect ever to have been so much moved by the 
power of words spoken for the same space of time. It ap- 
peared that the animation of a great occasion had for once 
raised all there was best in Mr. Davis ; and to look upon the 
shifting lights on the feeble, stricken face, and to hear the 
beautiful and choice words that dropped so easily from his 
lips, inspired a strange pity, a strange doubt, that this "old 
man eloquent" was tlie weak and unfit President whom a 
large majority of his people had been recently occupied in 
despising and abusing. For more than an hour he held the 
audience by an appeal of surpassing eloquence. The speech 
was extempore, for he was frequently interrupted, and 
always spoke appropriately and at length to the subject sug- 
gested by the exclamations of the audience. There Avere no 
reporters present to preserve a speech which should have 
been historical ; and, indeed, there was but one man con- 
nected with the Eichmond press who fully understood the art 
of the short-hand writer. Mr. Davis frequently paused in 
his delivery ; his broken health admonished him that he was 
attempting too much ; but frequent cries of " go on " impelled 
him to, speak at a length which he had not at first proposed. 
AVhen he first appeared, erect at the speaker's stand, holding 
with his glittering eye the assembled crowd, there were 
tremendous cheers, and a smile of strange sweetness came to 
his lips as if the welcome assured him that decried as he was 
by the newspaper's, and pursued by the clamor of politicians, 



472 LIFE OF JEFFERSON' DAVIS, WITH A 

he had still a place in the hearts of his countrymen. He 
spoke with an even, tuneful flow of words ; the choicest lan- 
guage appeared to come from his lips without an effort ; spare 
of gestures, his dilated form and a voice the lowest not'S 
of which were distinctly audible, and which anon rose as 
a sound of a trumpet, were yet sufficient to convey the 
strongest emotions, and to lift the hearts of his hearers to the 
level of his grand discourse. The sentiment of his speech 
was that of imperious unconquerable defiance to the enemy ; 
their insolent officials at Fortress Monroe little knew that 
tliey "talked to their masters^'''' and that it would be their turn 
to ask for peace "before the summer solstice was reckoned;" 
and then changing the subject, he surveyed the whole field 
of the war, enumerated new hopes, and, at last, speaking of the 
])rivate soldiers of the Confederacy, he commemorated their 
heroism and devotion, drew a picture of their sufferings, and 
in withering tones cursed the speculators who had traded and 
profited in their distress, and said the day might soon come 
when their ill-gotten gold would be divided in the camps of 
the country's defenders! He closed with a remarkable illus- 
tration drawn from history. He referred to the judgment 
which the world had passed upon Kossuth who had been so 
weak as to abandon the cause of Hungary with an army of 
thirty thousand men in the field. He spoke of the disgrace 
of surrender, if the Confederates should abandon their cause 
with an army on their side and actually in the field more 
numerous than those which had made the most brilliant 
pages in European history; an army more numerous than, 
that with which Napoleon achieved his reputation ; an army 
standing among its homesteads ; an army in which each 
individual man was superior in every mai'tial quality to 
each individual man in the ranks of the invader, and reared 
with ideas of independence, and in the habits of connnand ! 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY, 473 

The effect of these rhetorical stimulants could scarcely 
have been less than some temporary excitement. Hearing 
the huzzas in Richmond and reading the congratulations in 
the newspapers, the President and many around him were 
cheated into the belief tliat the people of the South had taken 
heart again, and that the war was about to be dated from a 
new era of popular enthusiasm. But the delusion was soon 
to be dispelled. There was no depth in the popular feeling 
thus excited ; it was a spasmodic revival, or short fever of 
the public mind, ending in the most sickly and shameful 
response to what was undoubtedly, in all its circumstances, 
one of the most powerful appeals ever calculated to stir the 
heart and nerve the resolution of a people fighting for liberty. 
The sources of popular enthusiasm were dried up in the 
South, and it was past that period when any thing could be 
expected from it, beyond a temporary excitement for the 
most unparalleled insult, or a brief resentment of the most 
arrogant menace. The test to which we have referred in the 
opening of this chapter, as of the point to which the hope and 
spirit of the South had descended had been determined, and 
had proved to be such as where the bravado of an enemy, 
instead of raising men to new and passionate exertion, sinks 
them to the abject and timid counsels of submission. The 
condition of the South, following the brief excitement of 
appeals such as we have described, was, among tlie best of 
its people, a dull, helpless expectation, a blank despondency, 
and, among the worst of them, an increased alacrity to pursue 
the phantom of negotiation, and finally, as of course, to 
submit to the enemy, 

Mr. Davis had calculated too much on the integrity of the 
Southern character. He had not yet realized — and to the 
last moment of the existence of the Southern Confederacv 



474 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

he never did realize — that that character had been impaired 
by what had been the terrible experiences of the war ; and 
he persisted in believing that the troops which yet defended 
Eichmond were soldiers of the same spirit as those Avho had 
won the battle of Manassas. He trusted too much in what 
he believed to be the unchangeable courage, the irreversible 
resolution, the untameable manhood of the Southern soldier 
A month after the African church revival, and when back 
sliders were numerous, he wrote in reproof of Congress, then 
meditating an adjourment, that he yet " reposed entire trust 
in the courage and constancy of the people." It was on the 
violent hypothesis of that constancy that he was insensible, 
to the last, of the condition of the country, and made most of 
those ludicrous miscalculations and grotesque prophecies 
which amused the North, and which divided the South on the 
question whether it should resent them as trifling with its 
intelligence, or pity and despise them as displaying, uncon- 
sciously, the real weakness of his judgment. A single, but a 
great misassumption explains much of that curious over-con- 
fidence of the President, which we have seen in other parts of 
this narrative, and have discussed on various grounds of 
speculation, and as proceeding from a mixture of causes. He 
was blind to the true condition of the South, partly because 
of the false media through which he viewed it. He looked 
at it through armies, which he yet supposed to be of men 
similar to those who had successfully fought the enemy five 
to one, and who, having won such victories once, might do it 
again. The mere list of Confederate victories was too often 
used as an argument, and an enumeration of names without 
any logical order in them — an instance of mere exclamations, 
ad captandum vidgus, drowning the voice of reason — was 
often thouLrht sufficient to silence those who were inclined to 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 475 

debate seriously the prospects of the war, or who ventured to 
express misgivings of the future. 

The people of the South were never understood by their 
President; and this first condition of a wise and powerful 
government — insight into the cliaracter of the people — was 
never performed. The principle of a Avise democracy but 
repeats the apothegm of Machiavelli, that a nation is wiser 
and more constant than its leading men. A truth announced 
from sources so various, and inscribed alike by the wisdom 
and the experience of all ages, was conspicuously illustrated 
in the Southern Confederacy. President Davis never under- 
stood the people he was appointed to govern ; and whatever 
there was of weakness and inconstancy in them — and there 
were certainly such exhibitions — were exceeded by his own 
weakness and inconstancy; and it is remarkable that he could 
never see them, either as exaggerated reflections of himself, or 
as effects of his own ignorance in government. If the people 
of the South are somewhat to be blamed for the want of 
proper spirit in the war, which they at last exhibited, Mr. 
Davis is much more to be blamed for having been in a great 
part the cause of such popular delinquency, and for not 
having performed the first duty of a wise governor — that of 
acquainting himself with the character of the people, and 
thus cultivating their virtues that they might over-balance 
their vices. 

The Southern people had their virtues and their vices — 
their good and their bad traits of character, as any other 
people. All that there was among the first, of lively and 
peculiar courage as in contempt of danger, quickness of 
imagination, extravagant sensitiveness to indignity, a passion 
for romance, had been misdirected and abused in the war; 
and all that there was among the last, of variableness of 



476 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

temper, as in a tendenc}^ to despond easily, impatience of 
expectation, a disposition to brave peril rather than to wait 
on fortune, an insobriety of hopes and fears were brought 
out and cultivated by tlie ignorant and uncertain administra- 
tion of Mr. Davis. The best qualities of his people he failed 
to develop, and their faults he unconsciously enlarged to his 
and their ruin. No wonder that thej commenced to disso- 
ciate themselves from a government, which from ignorance of 
their character alone, could never have been in sympathy with 
them; to support its existence, without upholding its autho- 
rity, to acquiesce, instead of applauding. Mr. Davis still 
held in his hands the reins of authority ; but his power to 
inspire the people ^was gone, diminishing from the moment 
be became — instead of the orator, who had so easily inspired 
them by his speeches at the commencement of the war — the 
ruler who, by a long course of mistakes and abuses, was to 
impair their character and to forfeit their confidence. Now 
his words had to be taken along with his acts. The oration 
he made at Metropolitan Hall, designed to excite anew the 
spirit of the war, which his actions for nearly four years had 
depressed; was beautifid, admirable words as caught by the 
ears of his auditors ; but when submitted to the reflections 
of their minds they were but dead types, the vmavailing 
pretences of a man upon whom the public had already passed 
an irreversible judgment. Little did he know when ani- 
mated in that oration, he accepted the mere temporary glow 
of an audience for a tribute and confirmation from the 
people, how powerless he had become to make a permanent 
impression on either the mind or heart of the South. Little 
did he feel when thus speaking, he prophesied the inde])en- 
dence of the Confederacy ''before the summer solstice," and 
pointed with disdain to the enemy he doomed, how near his 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 477 

own feet were to the brink of destructiou. Alas! tlie mili- 
tary events for the next few weeks were to nullify all that 
eloquence could accomplish, were to terminate the existence 
of the Southern Confederacy, and were to consign to a dim 
and voiceless prison him who, once, by his words had com- 
manded the affairs and ruled the affections of six millions ^f 
people ! 

But there remains yet another reason to account for the 
failure to re-animate the South after the Fortress Monroe 
Commission — a reason that makes a histoi'ical discoveiy of 
such importance, and so connected with the times in which 
we live — with, indeed, the whole future of the South — that we 
must earnestly invoke for it the attention of the reader. In 
another part of this chapter, analyzing the peace party in the 
Confederacy, Ave have already referred to the rapid and 
wonderful growth of a.n o]jinion in the South, that, at the 
last, generous terms might be expected from the enemy ; and 
although we have seen that this opinion was apparently so 
discouraged by the Fortress Monroe Commission — its dis- 
couragement^ being the very design of that commission, on 
the part of the President — yet we are bound to notice that, 
after the first effects of the representations of Mr. Davis and 
his commissioners, the people of the South came generally to 
believe that the report of the Commissioners was a false or 
garbled statement, that the enemy was not really so harsh 
and inaccessible as he was represented to be ; and that the 
real disposition of the North was for a^generous reconciliation, 
and a "reconstruction" of the Union, in Avhich the South / 
would lose nothing but Slavery, and probably not that Avith- 
out some measure of compensation. The extent of this 
delusion, and the singular fact of its rapid growth under the 
vej-y means taken to suppress it, is a subject of great historical 



478 LIFE OF JEFFKRSON DAVIS, WITH A 

importance. It explains how a mistaken faith in Northern 
generosity, added to the distrust of Mr. Davis's administration 
in continuation of the war, gave the hist blow to the Con- 
federate cause, and broke down the war in the South ; it 
accounts, in a great degree, for the sudden and abrupt termi- 
nation of the contest, when the South was so far from the 
physical necessity of surrender ; and it furnishes reflections, 
the most obvious and interesting, upon the present situation 
of parties at Washington. 

In a political review written since the war, by the author, 
(and from which he had drawn some of the facts stated here 
concerning the Fortress Monroe Commission) the false hope 
of the South in the moderation of the enemy, which precipi- 
tated the cause of the Confederacy and expedited its surrender, 
has been explained fully. With some slight changes in the 
context and expression it may supply some passages here, 
consistent with what we have written, and aiding the idea 
we desire to convey : — 

"In the last stage of the war, and contributing to its termination, 
there was a marlced decline of hostility to the Yankee in the sense of 
dread of the consequences of submission. The wonder is that ex- 
pectations of the enemy's generosity should have been indulged to 
such an extent, when the outrages of Sherman were fresh, and when 
the enemy was really in his iicrcest and most destructive moods, and 
the atrocity of his arms at its height. The explanation is very 
peculiar, and one must have closely studied public sentiment in the 
South to understand its curious condition on this particular subject 
toward the end of the war. It was an efliect produced entirely by 
politicians who had had frequent opportunities in various conferences, 
regular or irregular, with Northern men to inform and mitigate 
public opinion as to the real designs of the enemy. The idea was 
spread, sometimes insidiously, that although the North was violent 
in the war, its excesses iu this might l)e forgiven, as proceeding not 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 479 

SO much from cruelty as from a fixlse notion of military necessit}^, 
and that its political design was really of the most moderate and 
indifferent description, meaning only the re-estahlisliment of the 
tJnion, and the restoration of the status quo in every other particular. 
The reports brought back from the conferences referred to, were 
generally those of the most polite and pleasant personal intercourse, 
of hearty fellowship and kind entertainment on the enemy's part. 
Many of the politicians who had enjoyed such interviews, or who 
had Northern correspondence, had heard, in a confused way, of the 
most liberal propositions, and were ready to assure their weary 
countrymen of almost any terms of peace, on the single condition of 
laying down their arms, and trusting themselves to the generosity of 
the jSTorth. 

Under these representations, generally made privately and insidi- 
ously, and never venturing in the columns of the press, where the 
death's head of " Subjugation " was constantly displayed, the idea 
grew in the Southern mind that the Yankee was not such a terrible 
monster after all, that the newspapers had been practicing scare- 
crows on the people, and that the government had only for its own 
seliish purposes exaggerated the demands of the enemy, and painted 
the terrors of submission. The extent of this delusion in the last 
days of the Confederacy, can scarcely be conceived by one not 
admitted to those under-currents of opinion which make the secret 
history of governments in great wars. It was a whispered thought, 
an adroit suggestion, rather than a declared idea making its appear- 
ance in the press, or circulated in open debate. While the news- 
papers displayed the horrors of submission, and John Mitchell wrote, 
in serial articles, the parallel between Ireland and the conquered 
South, and President Davis continued the stereotype of " death 
preferable to defeat," the idea went secretly and steadily abroad, in 
the South that the Yankee was not as black as he was painted, and 
that surrender was not the chief of evils. 

Of this delusion toward the end of the war (so inconsistent with, 
the public tone of the South and especially Avith the defiance of Mr. 
Davis) the author ventures to make this curious remark : that many 
men in the South were even led to doubt of the loss of Slavery in the 
final adjustment with the enemy, and on this particular account, 
were induced to relinquish the contest. This supposition may appear 



480 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

very extravagant at this clay ; but it should be remembered that at 
the time referred to, the South had very imperfect communications 
with the Xorth, that she was a prey to rumors, and that politicians 
were busy with the story of the generous temper of the enemy. 
People were told in whispered conversations that it was not impos- 
sible that, at some time after the surrender of their arms, Slavery 
miglit be recovered from the yielding disposition of the I^orth ; a 
second sui)position was yet more probable, to the eftect that they 
might expect pecuniary compensation, if they promptly and gracefully 
accepted emancipation, and rumors were already flying in the air 
that President Lincoln had intimated such a proposition to Alexander 
H. Stephens, in the conference at Fortress Monroe. 

Mr. Stephens has since confessed (if we are to believe a Georgia 
newspaper), that in that conference, Mr. Lincohi said to him: — 

" Your people might, after all, get four hundred i^ousand\ dollars 
for the slaves, and you would be surprised if I should call the names 
of some of those who favor such a proposition. " But this important 
disclosure has been so severely suppressed since the death of Mr. 
Lincoln, as an injury to his memory in Northern estimation, that 
the public, even to this day, is scarcely aware of it, or is unprepared 
to credit it. Certainly, it would have been more direct for Mr. 
Stephens to have made this disclosure in his public report of the 
conference, instead of submitting the bald statement he did, and 
locking in his breast so important a secret. 

Ilnfortunatel}^ for the object of Mr. Davis, there leaked out some 
other private versions of the conference ^which showed the official 
report to be partial and sinister, and suggested a friendly and 
generous disposition of President Lincoln quite at variance with the 
spirit in which he was officially represented to have replied to the 
Connnissioners. 

In private accounts of the conference, Mr. Seward was especially 
represented as kindly, and very much disposed to enter into a 
general amicable conversation with the Confederate Commissioners. 
He asked Mr. Hunter, Avith amiable solicitude, of many of those 
they had mutually known in former days, in Washington, and 
inquired particularly of the health of Mr. Davis. There were no 
marks of harshness in the conference, and no attendance of cere- 
monies and forms. At parting, Mr. Seward shook Mr. Hunter by 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 481 

the hand very warmly, and said, with effusion: — "God bless you, 
Hunter!" 

The author recollects to have made some reference to this and 
other incidents of personal amiability in this famous conference, and 
to have designed publishing it in the Richmond Examiner; but Mr. 
Daniel ruled it out sharply, and for a special reason. He always 
for])ade the publication of any of the amenities of the Avar ; he 
thought they were likely to mislead as to the true character and 
conduct of the enemy, and to soften the resolution of the South." 

But, without reference to the conference at Fortress Mon- 
roe, or to the disputes concerning what took pLace there, 
there can be no doubt of the general fact that the South sur- 
rendered before it was actually compelled to do so by the 
arms of the North, and from a false and ill-considered trust 
in the moderation of the latter. The explanation of the 
almost abru]:»t conclusion of the war, stated in its broadest 
terras was the expectation of a mild, and even magnanimous 
treatment of the enemy — the mollification of dread of the 
Yankee — coupled with an entire Avant of confidence in the 
Davis Administration ; the consequence of which was that the 
people of the South were demoralized, and their virtue and 
resolution corrupted. There are thus stated three causes of 
the failure of the Confederacy — and all of them outside the 
hypothesis of physical inability to carry on the war. Of the 
existence- of that we are now treating there can be no doubt. 
The popular mind of the South, all official protestations to 
the contrary, expected a generous treatment after the war, 
and had lost its faith in the conventional terrors of subjuga- 
tion, so long maintained in the newspapers and in the public 
demonstrations of the Eichmond Government. The people 
who had been variously called "rebels" and "brethren" in 
the North, believed that one term was for war, the other for 
peace, and that on the declaration of the latter, they would 
31 



482 LIFE OF JEFFERSON" DAVIS, WITH A 

take their equal and accustomed plnces in tlie Union. In 
vain, Mr. Davis sought to combat this idea, and, in the light 
of his interpretations of the Fortress Monroe Commission, to 
argue the people into the belief that subjugation or war was 
the only alternative before them. There were many who 
answered that these were only interpretations, effected, too, 
by some fraud or ingenuity in the language of the conference, 
and made by a man who was likely to take a partial view of 
the matter, and interested, perhaps, to present a dishonest one. 
In vain, advisers more competent and persuasive than Mr, 
Davis, warned the Southern people of the treachery of the 
North, and reminded them of former lessons of its deception 
and cruelty. In vain, the press exhorted them, "better go 
down fighting, better be subjugated and conquered than live 
to recollect that we brought our ruin upon our heads by 
a deceptive reconstruction f They were prophetic words. The 
South never awoke from its delusion, until it had become the 
victim of" deceptive reconstruction;" until there were fastened 
upon it the chains of political tyranny it now wears ; and 
until those terrors of subjugation, to which it had sealed its 
ears in the last periods of the war, as silly or distorted imagi- 
nations, were realized almost literally in the acts of the Con- 
gress at Washington. 

When the war was first declared for the independence of 
the South, there were those who doubted whether there had 
up to that time been sufficient of actual experience of the 
hardship and oppression of the North to support a popular 
justification of rebellion, and to furnish moral animation 
enough to sustain it. The doubt was a reasonable one. 
However right a revolution may be on abstract principles, or 
for protection in the future, the experience of the Avorld shows 
that in such contests the spirit and resources of a people are 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 483 

never fully developed, and tbat to arouse them, there must ' 
be some actual, present experience of the rod of the oppressor.' 
A whole people will justify a rebellion when they fight for 
relief from some oppression, present and visible; but only the 
more thoughtful of them will appreciate a war for the 
integrity of an abstract principle or for some good, distant in 
the future. It has been singularly reserved for the South to 
obtain after the war the actual experience of oppression and 
of that sort of despotism which, if it had existed at the com- 
mencement of hostilities would have amply sustained them 
in popular estimation, and supplied much greater animation 
to their arms. Now such justification of the war is obtained 
in regarding the present condition of the South, in which all 
that was ever feared of the oppression of the North is fully 
realized. It is a justification retrospective, but none the less 
true or effective on that account. 

Yet we are forced to reflect on the credulity that had to 
wait the present actual realization of the outrages of North- 
ern despotism, to understand the usefulness and justice of the 
past war, and that refused to see the consequences of surren 
der until they were brought home to their doors. The delu 
sive faith in the generosity of the North that hastened the 
surrender of the South before her arms had been conquered, 
and betrayed her to a treacherous enemy— the weak belief 
that the latter meditated no practical tyranny over those who 
Avere invited to return to the blessings of free government- 
prove how persistent has been the South in her credulity, 
respecting all designs of the North, and how yielding to all 
the professions of the latter. This disposition is no new 
thing; it is part of the history of the South, coteraporary with 
three generations, and not yet expired. She showed it, when 
she refused, long before the Avar, to accept the lesson that th,3 



\ 



484 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS; WITH A 

transfer of political power to the North would be used to 
oppress her ; she showed it when she hesitated to believe, on 
the incoming of the government of Abraham Lincoln, that it 
had any actual designs upon Slavery, and was, for some time, 
inclined to doubt whether the war was not undertaken on a 
false alarm or an over-remote speculation ; she showed it, 
when she regarded the terrors of subjugation as imaginary, 
and insisted upon believing, against the counsels of her great- 
est and wisest men, that the victorious North would be liberal 
and just, and that she would be taken back into the Union, 
without hindrance or delay ; and — wonderful to say — to this 
very dav, she shows it in still trusting to the moderation of 
a party hostile to her, in yet looking for a time when a senti- 
ment of returning justiccin the North will undo the tangled 
skein of "reconstruction," and restore to her something of the 
faith in which she surrendered. That surrender, we repeat, 
was made not so much under the compulsion of military 
necessities, as from the persuasions of a false political 
hypothesis. It was the fruit of the credulity of the South; 
— and it is credulity for her yet to believe that she will not 
be required to eat the fruit of her own choosing to its inmost 
core of bitterness. 



'k£«. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 485 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

A Cruel Rumor in Richmond — Description of General Lee's Lines— Ttie Fatal Battle of tlie 2d of 
April — Sabbath Scenes in Richmond — A Telegram Delivered in St. Paul's Church — No Au- 
thentic Announcement concerning the Evacuation of Richmond — A Scene on a Hotel Balcony 
— Sudden and Wild Excitement in the City — Scenes of a Panic — Where is the President ? — Mr. 
Davis Concealed — His Mean and Obscure Exit from the City — General Breckinridge at the 
War Department — A Curious Scene in the Third Story of the Capitol — Disgraceful Conduct of 
the Citieens of Richmond — A Mission of Mayor Mayo — How Richmond was i'ired — Responsi- 
bility of President Davis for the Conflagration — Congregation of Horrors — Picturesque EiiirCt 
of the Federal Army — The Burnt District — A Thronged Theatre Unnaturally Illuminated — 
Terribia Quiet of the Night after the Fire — The War Virtually Ended — President Davis Insen- 
sible of the Importance of the Loss of Richmond — His Confidence Grotesque — An Issue Between 
Him and a Richmond Editor— The Picture of a Southern Confederacy Reduced to Jefl'trson 
Davis in Flight. 

We have heretofore referred to the peculiar distress pro- 
duced in the South by the multitude of rumors, mostly pro- 
ceeding from the secret habits and recluse disposition of the 
gorernment of Mr. Davis. About the last of the important 
and certainly the most cruel of the false rumors of Richmond, 
was one circulated there but two days before the final battles 
in front of Petersburg. These were dark days; the public 
gloomy and despondent; worn and dejected faces in the 
streets of Richmond. No one outside the circle of Mr. Davis's 
confidences knew what strength Lee had, or what was the 
"■ situation." Into this mist of ignorance and despondency 
darted a ray of light. An early morning train from Peters- 
burg sped to the capital with the news that General Lee had 
made a night attack on the enemy, and in the summary 
phrase of the report (not official, but averred to be the fore- 
runner of such) had "crushed his whole line." The news 



486 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS.. WITH A 

was generally believed in Richmond ; and although the gov- 
ernment must have obtained its contradiction in a few 
moments by the telegraph, of which it had exclusive possession, 
it, with as little feeling as of judgment, allowed the pleasant 
delusion to linger in the excited minds of the people. Such 
was the credit the report obtained that it was told at the 
bedside of John M. Daniel, chief editor of the Examiner, as a 
comfort to the dying man, then almost in his last agonies, 
and too feeble to do more than nod his satisfaction. Next 
day, John Mitchell regretted, in the Examiner, that its editor, 
who had labored so much for the Southern Confederacy had 
died almost at the moment that its arms had gained a great 
victory, and when it had probably crossed the fitful boundary 
of its fortunes, and passed into the grand illumination of final 
success. Alas for human hopes, and false comforts for the 
dead and dying ! — a few days later, and Richmond was 
crowned with an illumination — but it was of the flames of 
fire that signaled the approach of the enemy, and waved over 
the grave of the Southern Confederacy. 

No one in or about Richmond — not even General Lee 
himself, surveying his slight army, and comparing it with 
the hosts of Grant before him — could have imagined how 
near was the end ; nor did Grant himself conceive it until 
the hour he ordered the fatal attack. As long as the enemy 
could be kept from the west of Richmond, the seige of the 
city might be indefinitely prolonged ; his line already ex- 
tended thirty miles, but on the west it ended on the bank of 
Hatcher's Run, and had foiled, after repeated attempts, to 
reach the South-Side railroad, which connected with the 
Danville railroad and maintained all that was left of the 
communications of Richmond. An unexpected reinforce- 
ment of cavalry (Sheridan's corps) enabled Grant to make a 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 487 

strong movement to develope his left ; but before tliat opera- 
tion was finished, it became a mere episode, for as it weak- 
ened Lee's lines in front of Petersburg, the enemy conceived 
suddenly the grand design of giving the lesser movement 
to the winds, and breaking through directl}^ upon his prize, 
which was no longer the railroad, but Richmond itself. In 
the morning of the 2d of April, General Lee saw his line 
broken at three points, at each of which a whole Federal 
corps had attacked, and all day long the enemy was closing 
on the works immediately enveloping Petersburg. But the 
work, decisive of the war, was done in two hours. At eleven 
o'clock in the morning. General Lee wrote a dispatch to 
President Davis at Eichmond, advising him that the army 
could not hold its position, and that preparations should be 
made to evacuate the capital that night ! He might have 
added in the dispatch what he remarked to one of his staff- 
officers, as with embittered, but lofty face, he saw his army 
breaking up in the broad sunshine : — "It has happened as I 
told them in Richmond: the line has been stretched until it 
has broke." 

No sound of the battle — not an echo, not a breath — had 
yet reached the doomed city. It was a lovely Sabbath day, 
and Richmond basked in its beauty and enjoyed more than 
usual remission from the cares of the week. There were no 
sounds as of the vexed thoroughfare ; the long streets laid 
open, not a vehicle upoji them ; the murmur of the river 
gave tones only to soothe the ear, and the silent pulses of 
the sunshine beat slowly in the misty warm air that laid ou 
the landscape.. It was a day of careless thoughts. The 
usual Sunday crowd lounged near the post-office, exchanging- 
rumors of tlie war, or the latest depraved gossip of Richmond 
society. Hundreds wended their way to the churches, while 



IBS LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

not a few of " their country's hope " trod the paths beaten 
as sheep-walks to the back-entrances of the whiskey-shops 
on Main street, and sought consohation in the shades of " the 
Chickahominy," "the Rebel," and " the Wilderness." Ladies 
dressed in old finery, in which the fashions of many years 
were mingled, were satisfied to make a display at St. Paul's 
about equal to the holiday Avard robes in better days of the 
Negroes at the African Church. At the former church 
worshipped Mr. Davis. lie now sat stiff and alone in "the 
President's pew " — where no one outside his fiimil}^ had ever 
dared to intrude since Mrs. Davis had ordered the sexton to 
remove two ladies who had ventured there, and who, on 
turning their faces to the admonition to leave delivered 
before the whole congregation, had proved, to the dismay 
and well-deserved mortification of the President's wife, to be 
the daughters of General Lee. Mr. Davis was an earnest 
worshipper. But a Sunday before this memorable one, he, 
General Lee and Secretary Trenholra had gone together to 
the communion-table, and many eyes in the congregation 
had been moistened to see these three men, on whom depen- 
ded so many of human hopes, kneeling side by side to par- 
take of the most precious and comforting sacrament of the 
church. Now a very different scene was to be witnessed. 

In the midst of the services, a man walked noisily into the 
church, and handed the President a slip of paper. Mr. Davis 
read the paper, rose, and walked out of the church without 
agitation, but his face and manner evidently constrained ; an 
uneasy whisper ran through the crowd of worshippers, and 
many hastened into the street. The congregation was soon 
dismissed. The rumor had already gained the street that 
Richmond was to be evacuated ; it was confirmed to a few 
who penetrated the closed doors of the War Department, or 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 489 

made persistent inquiries at the telegraph office ; but, although 
the government had no motive now to suppress the sad truth, 
but, on the contrary, was in duty bound to inform the people 
and to prepare them for the exigency, it is remarkable that 
there was no authentic announcement of the intended evacua- 
tion, no published order on the subject, no official notification 
of any sort ; and that news in which every man's household 
was involved, was left to wander all day as a vague rumor in 
the streets, only to be confirmed by the actual, visible fact of 
the authorities leaving the city. In these singular circum- 
stances, many persons for many hours of this memorable day 
doubted the truth of what they heard only in the streets; 
many clung to undefined hopes ; many remained in blank 
dismay, unable to conceive suddenly the magnitude of their 
misfortune, and having no details by which to determine or 
guide their action. Thus for a considerable part of the after- 
noon, Richmond remained without visible excitement; for 
hours there were on the streets no active preparations to 
evacuate ; a whole population was kept unnecessarily in sus- 
pense, blank, hesitating, knowing not what to believe or how 
to act; — but it was the calm before the storm. 

A little past noon some regiments of Longstreet's command, 
on the north of James river, were seen marchino- throuoh the 
city, on their way to reinforce General Lee in the battle he 
was then supposed to be making to save or recover his lines 
before Petersburg. The soldiers moved with a slouching 
step ; and, once, on their disordered march, it is said groans 
were called for Jefferson Davis. Formerly, when Confederate 
soldiers had passed through Richmond, there had been music, 
cheers, crowds of shouting spectators, throngs of ladies stand- 
ing on the balconies of the principal hotels on Main street, to 
v/ave their adieux, perchance, to scatter flowers on them, at 



490 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

least to bestow upon them sweet and inspiring countenances. 
Now, as they passed through the thoroughfare, only a few 
spectators looked on sadly or cynically; no note of music 
clieered the sullen procession of men, marching sadly and 
.wearily to Death ; a few blank faces appeared at the windows ; 

f and on the balcony of the American Hotel, only two or three 
ladies stood. It was melancholy to see one of them limply 
wave a single handkerchief in a hesitating way, and then stop, 
pale and wounded, as not ^ single soldier cheei-ed or recog- 
nized the compliment. 

As the day wore on, it was noticed that wagons were 
driven to the doors of the Departments, and to the public 
storehouses — many of them branded as government wagons, 

■ many nondescripts — and all moving off towards the Danville 
depot. The accumulation of stores there, and of ticketed 
boxes, left no doubt that the city was to be evacuated. Signs 
of hurry increased; wagons, no longer driven in order, tore 
through the streets; men seemed suddenly possessed with a 
mania to run to their houses, to snatch from them some hasty 
baggage, and to rush to the nearest exit from the city. In 
less than an hour from the first appearance of the wagon 
trains on the streets, the whole population of Itichmond was 
involved in a panic. 

What scenes ensued it is impossible to describe. What a 
cliange fell upon this city, palled its wanton and hitherto 
unabashed revelry, and spread terror through its wicked 

. streets, like a thunderbolt from the unclouded expanse of 
heaven, can only be imagined, as the comparison indicates, 
in the light of some sudden wrath visited from the skies. 
For four years Eichraond had lived in the easy riot of the 
war. Now it appeared as if the day of judgment had been 
called upon it. Now there was hurrying to and fro. Now 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 491 

the panic-stricken city broke up as if riven by lightning, into 
b>lack, torn crowds of maddened men, conscience-stricken 
fugitives, sobered revelers, blanched woman and children, 
fleeing wildly through the streets, over the bridges jf the 
river, through every avenue of escape from the terrible day 
of judgment — the chariots of fire and wrath that were next 
day to enter the doomed city. It was a scene never to be 
forgotten in the memories of Richmond. The night was 
hoarse Avith the roar of the great flight. 

But where, in this dramatic and tumultuous scene, was 
President Davis ? When he had received news of Lee's 
defeat he had slunk from his pew in St. Paul's church, and 
while the fountains of his government were being broken up, 
and the great final catastrophe had mounted the stage, the 
principal actor was wanting ; he, the President, the leader, 
the historical hero, had never shown his face, had never 
spoken a word, was satisfied to prepare secretly a sumptous 
private baggage, and to fly from Richmond — a low, unnotice^^ 
fugitive — under cover of the night. In such scenes a great 
leader is naturally sought for by the love and solicitude of 
his i^eople ; there are words of noble farewell to his country- 
men ; there are touching souvenirs of parting with his ofiicers. 
But there were none of these in Mr. Davis's case, and, indeed, 
no stronger proof could have been given of the popular con-' 
tempt and neglect into which he had fallen than his mean 
and obscure exit from Richmond. He did not show himself to 
the public, as a great leader might be expected to do in such 
a supreme calamity ; he attempted no inspiration, comfort or 
advica; hid in his house, busy only with his private pre- 
parations, inquired of by no one, without any mark of public 
solicitude for him, without the least notice from popular 
sympathy or anxiety, the unhappy, degraded President of 



492 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the Southern Confederacy, never showed his face in the last 
catastrophe of his capital, until he stole on the car^ that was 
to bear him to a place of safety, and fled from the doomed 
city, unmarked among the meanest of its fugitives. He left 
no word of tender or noble farewell for Eichmond, and the 
last souvenir of his power was an order to burn the city that 
for four years had given him shelter, countenance and 
hospitality. 

He left behind him every circumstance to dismay the people. 
The Congress had meanly adjourned some days before ; the 
President was not visible ; not a single member of the Cabinet 
could be found but General Breckinridge (the successor of 
Mr. Seddon in the War Department), who remained steadily 
in his office until nightfall, giving the last orders that were 
necessary for the destruction or distribution of the archives, 
and answering the inquiries of the few citizens who were 
allowed access to him. The reporter of the associated press 
who was aware that eight o'clock had been designated by 
General Lee as the hour for evacuation, unless meantime he 
succeeded in re-establishing his lines, in which event he 
would telegraph again, attended the room of General Breck- 
inridge at that hour, and was admitted. He came out with a 
blank face. " There is no hope," said General Breckinridge, 
and he walked quietly from the room and from the building 
to the house where the President was then concealed, making 
private preparations for his flight. There was no last coun- 
cil or conference. All that there was of deliberative assem- 
bly — all that remained of the once proud and loquacious 
government of Jefferson Davis — was to appoint the rendez- 
vous and time for flight, the Cabinet members being in- 
structed to meet the President at the Danville depot, a little 
before midnight. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 493 

The Capitol appeared deserted, but as night fell, it was 
noticed that the main door was ajar.- Hid away in an ob- 
scure room in the third story, the City Council was anxiously 
debating v/hat ceremonies were necessary for the surrender 
of the city, since the President was supposed to have already 
fled, or to be concealed for the present in Manchester, and 
the duty of surrendering the capital was thus devolved upon 
its, municipal authorities. It was a cowardly debate re- 
moved from the observation of the citizens. One of the 
councilmen was ostentatiously dressed in a Confederate 
uniform. So extreme was the concern for the safety of the 
city, sucb the anxiety for its readiest humiliation, that it 
was arranged that a notification of surrender should be 
given before the next day broke, and three hours past mid- 
night, the Mayor, despite his eiglity years of age, was started 
in a dilapidated vehicle on the mission of surrendering 
Richmond before the enemy could get in sight of it. It was 
tlie first of a train of disgraceful humiliations. The city 
that showed sucb hot and indecent haste to surrender ; that 
next day pr-esented the spectacle of some of its leading 
citizens rushing bareheaded to Federal ofiicers in the street, 
asking for the delicious consolation of taking the oath of 
allegiance (one of them — a former financial agent of the Con- 
federacy — obtaining the reply, " When we are ready to ad- 
minister the oath of allegiance we'll send for you, you d — d 
scoundrel ;") that in two days after the enemy's occupation 
iwas publishing a " Union " newspaper from the office of the 
Whig, witli the boast that " the old flag" had been concealed 
in its garret during the whole war ; and that within a week 
after the surrender showed the statistic of seventeen thous- 
and three hundred and sixty-seven food tickets calling for 
eighty-six thousand five hundred and fifty-five rations, as 



49-i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the measure of its population willing to live on the bounty 
of " the hated Yankee" — is yet that self-styled " heroic city "' 
of Richmond, which professes to have lived within a peculiar 
enclosure of glory during the war, which has insolently ' 

claimed comparison in history with such places as Saragossa Ij^^^ 
and Londonderry, and which yet cherishes its blunt and 
withered laurels as capital of the Southern Confederacy. 

Before the Mayor could mount on his mission to the 
p.nen\y, a new and surpassing terror fell upon the city. It 
had been fired in various quarters, and there were already 
gleams of conflagration on the dark horizon. While the 
heaving and tumultuous city was even at this hour of the 
night filled with pillagers and marauders — convicts from the 
penitentary, who had escaped, their guards having fled, and 
lawless soldiers who were no longer under any control, 
the main command of General Ewell having already tramped 
across the bridges over the river — the wakeful and anxious 
eyes of thousands of terrified citizens looking from their 
windows beheld this new apparition of horror rising from 
the black wastes of the night. Word came that the Shockoe 
Warehouse was fired ; then, again, that three other large 
warehouses containing tobacco had been given to the flames. 
It was too late ; the hand of the government was recognized 
in it. 

The conflagration had proceeded from a strange negligence 
of President Davis. It was a standing order in the Con- 
federacy, that cotton and tobacco should be burned on the 
approach of the enemy ; and some weeks before, in a general 
discussion, in the newspapers, as to what might possibl}- take 
place in Richmond, it was suggested that the little there \vas 
of these staples, in the city, should be removed, and im- 
pounded in the Fai- Grounds outside the city, where they 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 495 

might be conveniently and cleanly destroyed in case of 
necessity. The suggestion was never heeded by Mr. Davis. 
The cotton and tobacco remained stored in large and scattered 
warehouses in the most thickly built parts of the city. In 
the trepidation of his flight, and in the excessive concern for 
his own safety, Mr. Davis appears to have left the order for 
burning the cotton and tobacco unchanged ; at least the 
supposition of neglect is most charitable, for it is hardly to 
be supposed that he would have deliberately imperilled the 
homes of sixty thousand people, to destroy and to deprive 
the enemy of some insignificant stores of the total value of 
which it has been computed that it would not furnish one 
day's rations for the whole of Grant's army ! 

Kichmond in flames was a fitting souvenir of its departed 
President — a characteristic concluding example of the mis- 
management and thoughtlessness of the government whose 
record for four years had been that of brilliant wrecks. Tt 
was well for the sensibilities of Mr. Davis that he did not 
witness the last supreme ruin and distress his folly caused, 
and which history has placed at his doors as an inextinguish- 
able signal of shame and crime. The flames that devoured 
his capital were seen by bim only in faint reflections on the 
sky ; the sheets of fire and smoke that flapped in the mid air 
were not over his own head; the keen cries of distress, though, 
given to the racing winds, could not overtake his rapid flight. 
For the present he was safe and amused ; and while Eichmond 
burned, he was setting up a childish caricature of a new 
government in the obscure town of Danville. 

The morning of the 3d of April was ushered in with a 
congregation of horrors. The first grey streaks of the dawn 
were broken by the explosions of the iron-clads in the James 
river, blown up by orders of Admiral Semmes. The air was 



496 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

rent as by the report of a hundred cannon. Men rushed 
through the streets crying out that Richmond was bombarded; 
but even the voices of alarm could scarcely be lifted above 
tlie roaring, the hissing and the crackling of the flames as 
they leaped from house to house, and licked the faces of the 
swaying crowds. By ten o'clock — when several thousands of 
the enemy had already marched into the city — the scene had 
become fearfully sublime. It was a scene in which the 
horrors of a great conflagration struggled for the fore-part of 
the picture, while the Grand Army, brilliant with steel and 
banners, breaking into the circle of fire with passionate cheers, 
and the crash of triumphant martial music, dazzled tlie 
spectator and confounded his imagination. The flames had 
already spread over the chief business portion of the city; 
brands were flying toward the Capitol ; and it seemed at one 
time, as if tlic wliole of Richmond would be destroyed — that 
the whole wicked city would rush skyward in a pyramid of 
fire. A change in the wind, however, drove back the fire 
from the high plateau above Franklin street, where, if the 
flames had once lodged, they would soon have traversed the 
length and breadth of the city. But the business portion of 
the city, south of this street, and bounded east and west by 
Fifteenth and Eighth streets, was doomed from the time the 
torch was applied to the Shockoe Warehouse, where the 
flames rising to the height of six stories, and radiating front 
and rear, were soon beyond control. The Government could 
not have selected a better point from which to scatter the 
destroying element, and to secure a complete conflagration of 
the most valuable part of Richmond. 

All that was terrible in sounds was added to all that was 
terrible in sights While glittering regiments carried their 
straight lines of steel through the smoke; while smoke- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 497 

masked robbers fought for their plunder ; while the lower 
streets appeared as a great pit of jfire, the crater of destruction; 
while alarmed citizens, who had left their property a ruin or a 
spoil, found a brief refuge on the sward of the Capitol Square, 
whose emerald green was already strewn with brands — • 
the seeds of fire that the merciless winds had sown to the 
very doors of the Capitol ; while the lengthening arms of the 
conflagration appeared to almost reach around those who had 
fled to the picturesque hill for a breath of fresh air, sounds as 
terrible, and more various than those of battle, assailed the 
ear, and smote the already over-taxed imagination. There 
were shells at the Confederate Arsenal exposed to the fire, 
from the rapid progress of which they could no longer be 
rescued, and for hours the explosions of them tore the air and 
shook the houses in their vicinity. Crowds of Negroes roamed 
through the streets, their wild, coarse voices raised in hymns 
of jubilation, thanking God for their freedom ; and a few steps 
farther might be heard the blasphemous shouts of those who 
fought with the red-handed fire for their prey. 

Above all these scenes of terror huno: a erreat vail of 
smoke. It rose solemnly to the sky, and through it the 
trimmed disc of the sun, "no bigger than the moon," shone 
dull and ghastly. It was a combination to which description 
fiiils to do justice, and in which it is impossible to distress 
the mind v/ith all of its details. There were crowds, mad 
with cowardice, swaying under excitement, trampling on each 
other ; there were lurid figures of pillagers in the smoke and 
flame; there were keen cries of distress that cleft the volume 
of military music; and thus, on this thronged theatre, un- 
naturally illuminated, and in an auditorium of almost 
unearthly sounds, expired much of the pride, the luxury, the 
licentiousness and the cruelty of liichmond. 
32 



498 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

When Dighfc descended, a death -like quiet fell upon what 
remained of the city. It represented a feeling of reaction; 
and far beyond the sleepless forms of those who mechanically 
laid down in the shadows of the ruins of Richmond to think 
of the events of a day never to be forgotten, there were 
millions in all parts of the country to whom th-e same night 
brought a sense of remission from a great excitement. The 
tens of thousands who had sung the doxology in New York, 
and whose voices of praise to God had risen in the open air, 
while the smoke of Richmond's torment ascended the sky, 
laid down at the close of the day with hearts as overstrained 
as those which kept vigil in the punished and despairing 
capital of the Confederacy. For each the decisive event of 
the war had happened, although in the opposite senses of 
hope and fear ; but the excesses of despair and joy are alike, 
in reducing the mind to a momentary blankness, to the ces- 
sation of an active interest. A war which had been waged 
for four years had practically, virtually ended in a day, and 
the country was sunk into meditation — awaking after the 
night of the 3d of April, to show but little interest in the 
chronological order that alone remained to gather up the de- 
tails, to distribute the characters, and to conclude the story. 

Only one notable man in the South seemed thoroughly 
insensible of the meaning of that day. Intoxicated with rage 
and disappointment, foolishly disposed to resent as an inci- 
dent of misfortune what was really the finishing blow of fate, 
furious at what he thought the incredulity of those who 
listened in pitiful silence to his new schemes of triumph, 
Jefferson Davis was proceeding to continue the war with 
behavior so extravagant and grotesque as to excite the 
ridicule of his enemies, to move the pity of his friends, and 
to rob himself even of that last consolation of a failing cause 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDEKACr. 499 

/ 
— the dignity of a calm and intelligent submission. It is the 
great man who can make the distinction between the chal- 
lenge of misfortune and the sentence of fate, and who knows 
how to conform his conduct to the one or the other. Mr. 
Davis ' could not see it. He had not the nature to accept 
gracefully the irreparable. He could not understand the 
effects of the fall of Kichmond. But a short while before the 
catastrophe, and as if in calculation of it, he had stated that 
if Richmond fell, the war would still go on ; and he had added 
to some of his friends in intimate conversation on the subject, 
that he even ventured to hope that after such an event, the 
war would proceed with increased spirit on the part of the 
South. It is memorable that the press published the follow- 
ing reply to the inflation of the President : — " The evacuation 
of Richmond would be the loss of all respect and authority 
towards the Confederate Government, the disintegration of 
the army, and the abandonment of the scheme of an indepen- 
dent Southern Confederation. Each contestant in the war has 
made Richmond the central object of all its plans and all its 
exertions. It has become the symbol of the Confederacy. 
Its loss would be material ruin to the cause, and, in a moral 
point of view, absolutely destructive, crushing the heart and 
extinguishing the last hope of the countr3^ Our armies 
would lose the incentive inspired by a great and worthy 
object of defence. Our military policy would be totally at 
sea ; we should be without a hope or an object ; without 
civil or military organization ; without a treasury or a com- 
missariat ; without the means of keeping alive a wholesome 
and active public sentiment ; without any of the appliances 
for supporting a cause depending upon popular faith and 
enthusiasm ; without the emblems or the semblance of nation 
ality." A few days were to determine whether Mr. Davis or 



500 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

his critic was right; which view was to supervene on the 
loss of the Confederate capital It proved a sequel in which 
we shall presently follov/' Mr. Davis — a view even more 
sorrowful and humiliating than that which the Richmond 
journalist had predicted ; for what remained of the picture of 
the Southern Confederacy, after the catastrophe of Richmond 
is, as we shall see, mainly the single figure of the President 
in flight, and, at last, his surrender with not one defender 
from all the vast armies of the South, standing between him 
and the enemy. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY, 501 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Some Further Reflections on the Character of President Davis — A Historical Comparison — Secret 
History of his Flight from Kichmond — A A''esscl Awaiting Him on the Coast of Florida — Con- 
ceahnent of Important Records of the Confederacy — Trepidation of Mr. Davis's Departure from 
Richmond — What Became of the Gold in the Treasury — ^The President's Proclamation at Dan- 
ville — A Singular Conversation — Fatuity and Blindness of Mr. Davis — Continuation of hla 
Flight to Oreenshoro', North Carolina — Infamous and Insulting Conduct of the People there — 
The President Housed, for nearly a Week, in a Box Car — A Lady to the Rescue — Memorable 
Interview of President Davis and Generals Johnston and Beauregard — A Bitter Speech from 
Johnston — The President Dictates an Important Letter — Meditations of his Journey through 
North Carolina — He Conceives a New Prospect — "Hoping Against Hope" — A Dramatic and 
Painful Scene at Abheville, South Carolina — The Last Council of the Southern Confederacy — 
"All is Lost" — Dishandment of the Confederate Troops at Abbeville — Mr. Davis's Misconduct 
on Receiving the News of the Assassination of Abraham Lincoln — The Presidential Party at 
Washington, Georgia — Mr. Davis Disguised as an Emigrant — Ilis Capture — Wicked and Absurd 
Story of his being Disguised in a Woman's Dress — A Bloody Defiance — Mrs. Davis in the Scene 
— The President's Parley with His Captors — A Sorrowful Cavalcade to Macon, Georgia. 

In another part of our work we have suggested a com- 
parison between President Davis and a character whom the 
historian Gibbon has vividly portrayed, and whom Bulwer, 
from the standpoint of elegant fiction, has adorned, making a 
brilliant, romantic figure quite unlike the severe description 
in history — Rienzi, the last of the Roman Tribunes. The 
comparison, as it will suggest itself to the reader, is remarka- 
bly fine and forcible. The two men are examples of that 
mixed character, always fated to various and opposite criti- 
cism, alike liable to the extremes of censure and of praise, 
where the virtues and the vices flourish on an uncertain 
boundary, and are often intertwined; where great weaknesses 
are coupled with admirable accomplishments, and where the 
defects of practical judgment are found in union with the 



502 ■ LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

finest scholarly culture, rendering the attainments of tlie 
latter rather curious than useful. The two tribunes were 
alike in their ambition, alike in their historical mission, alike 
in abusing the most extraordinary gifts of fortune. They had 
the same quality of ambition, at once intensified and degraded 
by much of personal vanity ; they made the same mistake of 
strong, selfish aspirations for public spirit; they had the 
same affection for the gauds of authority, proceeding not so 
much from the love of elegant luxury as fron\ that of the 
symbol and adornment of power ; they had the same connu- 
bial entanglements, alike governed by their wives, and 
divided between the endearments of the private chamber and 
the cares of State. And j'ct they were great orators and 
scholars;' they represented the best culture of their times; 
and they were pure men, though, in the sense of being such, 
not so much from the hardihood of virtue as from the refine- 
ments of taste. They failed, alike, from the same ignorance 
of government, the same ill distribution of obstinacies and 
weaknesses, haughty refusals in one instance, and mean com- 
pliances in another, the same repulse of counsellors, the same 
paltry intrigues of the closet and the boudoir, the same con- 
tempt of fortune, presuming upon its favors as natural rights 
or irrevocable gifts. They experienced the same extremes 
of public opinion — popular adultation at the commencement 
of their career and damning neglect at its close ; and they, 
alike, lost the affections of their people, by using with arro- 
gance the powers they had bestowed, playing the tyrant 
' rather from the vanity of power, rather through conceited 
and thankless use of it than from any natural cruelty, or 
through exercises of anger or revenge. 

The comparison is most striking, towards the end of the 
careers of the two tribunes. The feebleness of the surrender 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 503 

of Rome brings to mind tlie forty cavalrymen, that, first, in 
the morning of the 3d of April, rode into Richmond without 
hindrance, and planted their guidons on the Capitol ; and 
the apathy of the citizens who looked with contempt on their 
former idol, Rienzi, the friend of Petrarcli, the great orator, 
the elegant favorite of the forum, suggests at least the indif- 
ference with which Jefferson Davis was dismissed from the 
stage of his country's extreme distress and calamity. 

"The Roman hero," says Gibbon, " was fast declining from 
the meridian of fame and power ; and the people who had 
gazed with astonishment on the ascending meteor, began to 
mark the irregularity of its course, and the vicissitudes'©f 
liglit and obscurity. More eloquent than judicious, more 
enterprising than resolute, the faculties of Rienzi were not 
balanced by cool and commanding reason : he magnified in a 
ten-fold proportion the objects of hope and fear ; and prudence 
which could not have erected, did not presume to fortify his 
throne. In the blaze of prosperity, his virtues were insensi- 
bly tinctured with the adjacent vices ; justice with cruelty, 
liberality with profusion, and the desire of f^ime with puerile 
and ostentatious vanity * -^ * In the pride of victory, he 
forfeited what yet remained of his civil virtues, without ac- 
quiring the fame of military prowess. A free and vigorous 
opposition was formed in the city ; and when the tribune 
proposed in the public council to impose a new tax, and to 
regulate the government of Perugia, thirty-nine members 
voted against his measures ; repelled the infamous charge of 
treachery and corruption; and urged him to prove, by their 
forcible exclusion, that if the populace adhered to his cause, 
it was already disclaimed by the most respectable citizens 
* ^ ^' At the head of one hundred and fifty soldiers, the 
count of Minorbino introduced himself into Rome ; barricaded 



504 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the quarter of the Colonna ; and found the enterprise as easy 
as it had seemed impossible. From the first alarm, the bell 
of the Capitol incessantly tolled ; but, instead of repairing to 
the well-known sound, the people were silent and inactive; 
and the pusillanimous Rienzi, deploring their ingratitude 
with sighs and tears, abdicated the government and palace 
of the republic." 

Itienzi, at another time, attempted to escape from his capi- 
tal in the disguise of a baker. /*3jefferson Davis's eifort at 
escape was perhaps not less mean 'm its last resources. But 
Ejimzi did what the chief of the Southern Confederacy did 
nOT do ; and at the last he was unwilling to leave his capital, 
without at least the dignity of an adieu, without some words 
addressed to the people, without something of invocation not 
to be omitted in any extremity of despair, or to be forgotten 
in any haste of personal alarm. 

We have seen that Jefferson Davis fled from Richmond, 
without a word of public explanation, with none of that 
. benediction or encouragement which a great leader is expec- 
ted to impart to his people in such a catastrophe. He escaped 
with the ignominy of an obscure, mean fugitive, if not posi- 
tively in the character of a deserter. Some explanation has 
been offered of his singular neglect on this occasion of those 
whom, in his day of power, he was accustomed, after the 
affectation of a fond and paternal ruler, to call "his people," 
in the statement that the government at Richmond had no 
expectation of Lee's disaster, and was thus painfully hurried 
in its evacuation of the capital. 

The statement is untrue, and the excuse is unavailing. 
The writer well knows, what has not heretofore been impar- 
ted to public curiosity, that Jefferson Davis had, many weeks 
before Lee's catastrophe, made the most careful and exacting 



berate 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 505 

preparations for his escape. The matter had been fully con- 
sulted with his Cabinet, in profound secresy ; and it had been 
agreed that, to secure the escape of the President and his 
principal ofl&cers, the Shenati^loali should be ordered to cruise 
off the coast of Florida, to take the distino-uished fua:itives on 

o o 

board, who had selected the coast for their exit from the Con- 
federacy, and their extrication from its falling fortunes. 
These orders had been sent to the Confederate cruiser many 
days before Lee's lines w^Stbroken. It Avas calculated that, 
in tl>e'last resource of the suiTcnder of Lee's army, and of the 
neutralization of other organized forces of the Confedera 
the President's party might make an easy and delibc 
escape in the way agreed upon, as the communications with the 
Florida coast were then scarcely doubtful, and once on the 
Shenandoah, a fast sailer, the most valuable remnant of the 
Confederate navy, they might soon obtain an asylum on a 
foreign shore. Other preparations were made for the flight; 
all the papers of the government were revised, and marked 
for destruction, abandonment, or preservation, according to 
their contents ;* and even Mr. Davis's private baggage was 

* By the way, it is remarkable that so little has been obtained, by 
the capture or discovery of documents, of the secret liistory of the 
Confederacy. True, there liave been collected at Washington some 
documentary relics, under the title of "Rebel Archives;" and the 
pretentious construction of a Bureau to take care of them, and cer- 
tain foolish provisions against the access to them of public curiosity, 
have given the idea of some value and mystery attached to them. 
But they are historicalh^ worthless, scarcely anything more than the 
official platitudes, dry and barren amplifications of stories which 
have been told a hundred times in the newspapers. There was 
captured in Richmond only the refuse of the Confederate archives. 
It is a curious and romantic fact, not generally known, that the bulk 
of the valuable papers of the Confederate Government, including the 



606 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

put in order for transportation. Of course, the public knew 
nothing of these preparations, and it did not even suspect 

correspondence of Jefferson Davis, exists to-day in concealment ; 
that many days before the fall of Richmond there was a careful 
selection of important papers, especially those in the office of the 
President, and letters which involved confidences in the North and 
in Europe, and that these were secretly conveyed out of Eichmond, 
and deposited in a place where they remain concealed to this time, 
and will probably not be unearthedvin this generation. Where is 
this repository of the secrets of the Confederate Government the 
author is not prepared to sa,y. Indeed, he has never been able to 
obUi^i other than very general information of the present place of 
these papers, and even as to the limits of the locality he was bound 
by obligations of private confidence, which it is impossible to violate. 
The author can only assure the reader of three facts : that they 
still exist ; that there are living persons who know of their conceal- 
ment ; and that they contain important evidences of the secret 
history of Mr. Davis's Government. He has repeatedly sought 
access to th^m out of historical curiosity, but he has been invariably 
met with the explanation that, while this indulgence might be 
allowed him, for such legitimate purpose, it would be unsafe, for 
private reasons, and the information if published might be diverted 
to serious consequences to persons of importance yet living, and 
within the jurisdiction of the government. It has been impossible 
to surmount this objection, and there is no doubt that many of these 
papers do really involve discoveries of some curious negotiations in 
the war, the parties to which might astound the public. During the 
war it was well known, in some circles of confidence in Eichmond — 
as we have observed in the text of another part of this Avork — that 
Mr. Davis entertained a large secret correspondence in. the North ; 
that he had sources of comfort, information, and advice there ; and 
indeed it would have been strange, considering the volume of dis- 
affection in the North— a remarkable peculiarity of the late war— 
if it had not found some expression in secret negotiations, or some 
sort of surreptitious communication with the Confederate authorities. 
Of the extent of such correspondence the popular imagination has 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 507 

them. We have already referred to a bitter suspicion in 
Richmond, that whatever the misfortune of the Southern 
Confederacy, Mr, Davis would be certain to provide for his 
personal safety, above that of all others ; and indeed, we have 
been forced to suggest that, for this mean reason, the Presi- 
dent had invariably blanched at any retaliation upon the 
enemy involving the penalty of death. But many people re- 
sented this thought or suspicion ; they persisted in believing 
that President Davis would stand with the army when the 

probably fallen short. As an instance of the volume of " disloyalty " 
and A^enality in the Korth, the writer may mention the case of a 
single secret document which he was once permitted to see in Rich- 
mond, wherein certain parties offered to assist the Confederacy, by 
supplying its Western armies for a whole year from the granaries 
and magazines of the North. Such important letters and other 
secret papers were kept in what was called "the Presidential 
Archives." Tliese archives — a part of the documentary history of 
the government of Mr. Davis, of which we have had occasion to 
speak in connection with its political intrigues in the summer of 
1864— we repeat, still exist, were preserved .from the wreck and fire 
of Eichmond, and at this moment are under the seal of a personal 
confidence with Mr. Davis ; while the Federal authorities congratu- 
lating themselves that they seized the archives of tlie Southern Con- 
federacy, had only captured its Avaste paper. 

However imperfect the revelations that have yet been made of the 
inner or secret government of Mr. Davis, yet the world may know, 
and it is at least some historical satisfaction, that the most valuable 
papere of the Southern Confederacy, including the correspondence of 
the President, reported to have been held with important parties in 
the jSTorth and in Europe, and which might yet involve the personal 
safety of some of them, and possibly found prosecutions, did not 
perish in the catastrophe of Richmond ; that they are yet preserved 
in a manner and place to defy discovery, and secure against loss or 
mutilation— dedicated, perhaps, to the curiosity of a distant genera- 
tion. 



508 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

Confederate flag was lowered, and accept a common lot with 
them and the people ; and they called to mind his heroic 
words, spoken to the troops in Virginia in 1861, at the be- 
ginning of the war: ''When the last line of bayonets is 
levelled I will be with you." 

In the last chapter, we left Mr. Davis hurrying from St. 
Paul's church. He walked unattended to his house. After 
having safely bestowed his important papers, and by this 
measure consulted to some degree his personal safety, it might 
be supposed that Mr. Davis would be prepared to leave Eich- 
mond with some appearance of self-possession and dignity. 
But after all the provisions for his flight, the signal for it was 
so sudden and dramatic — announced to him in the shape of 
Lee's dread telegram — as to have some effect of surprise at 
least, breaking down his equanimity, and reducing him to 
that condition of fluster and tremulousness with which the 
weak man receives the news of misfortune, no matter how 
long he has vaguely expected it, and practised against the 
moment of its announcement. 

He nervously prepared at his house his private baggage, 
and he never ventured in the streets until, under cover of the 
night, he got, unobserved, on the train that was to convey him 
from Eichmond. He did not forget the gold in the Treasury ; 
that, amounting to less than forty thousand dollars, it had 
been proposed some days before, in Congress, to distribute as 
largesses to the discontented soldiers ; but Mr. Davis had in- 
sisted upon reserving it for exigencies, and it was now secured 
in his baggage. He did forget his sword. That, a costly 
present from some of his admirers in England, had been sent 
to the Eichmond Armory for some repairs ; it was abandoned 
to the fire there. The last seen of this relic of the Southern 
Confederacy was a twisted and gnarled stem of steel, on pri- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 509 

vate exliibition in a lager-beer saloon in Richmond, garnished 
with a certificate that it was what remained of Jeff. Davis's 
sword, and that the curiosity might be purchased for two 
hundred dollars. 

Mr. Davis was accompanied at the first stage of his flight 
bj some of his personal staff, and three members of his 
Cabinet : General Breckinridge, Secretary of War, Mr, Ben- 
jamin, Secretary of State, and Mr. Reagan, Postmaster- 
General. His wife was in North Carolina. The party 
journeyed without accident or adventure to Danville, sitting 
mostly in moody silence, as the train shrieked through the 
night that a few miles farther was being torn by explosions, 
through whose fitful chasms of light Lee's army marched as 
into impenetrable darkness. Arrived at Danville, Mr. Davis 
issued a proclamation ; out of place there, inaccessible to the 
army, and which would have been much more fitly made 
before he had abandoned the post of danger in Richmond. 

This proclamation merits the curiosity, and, in some sense, 
the sympathy of the reader : — 

Danville, Va., April 5, 1865. 

The General-in-Chief found it necessary to make such movements 
of his troops as to uncover the capital. It would be unwise to conceal 
the moral and material injur}'^ to our cause resulting from the occu- 
pation of our capital by the enemy. It is equally unwise and un- 
worthy of us to allow our own energies to falter, and our eftbrts to be- 
come relaxed under reverses, however calamitous they may be. For 
many months the largest and finest army of the Confederacy, under 
a leader whose presence inspires equal confidence in the troops and 
the people, has been greatly trammelled by the necessity of keeping 
constant watch over the approaches to the capital, and has thus been 
forced to forego more than one opportunity for promising enterprise. 
It is for us, my countrymen, to show by our bearing under reverses, 
how wretched has been the self-deception of those who have believed 



510 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

lis less able to endure misfortune with fortitude than to euconnter 
dangers with courage. 

We have now entered upon a new phase of the struggle. Kelicvod 
from the necessity of guarding particular points, our army will be 
free to move from point to point, to strike the enemy in detail far 
from his base. Let us but will it, and we are free. 

Animated bj' that conlidence in your spirit and fortitude which 
tiever yet failed me, I announce to you, fellow-countrymen, that it is 
my purpose to maintain your cause with my whole heart and soul ; 
that I will never consent to abandon to the enemy one foot of the soil 
of any of the States of the Confederacy. That Virginia— noble State 
—whose ancient renown has been eclipsed b}' her still more glorious 
recenthistory ; whose bosom has been bared to receive the main shock 
of this war ; whose sons and daughters have exhibited heroism so 
sublime as to render her illustrious in all time to come — that Virgiuia, 
with the help of the people, and by the blessing of Providence, shall 
he held and defended, and no peace ever be made with the infonious 
invaders of her territory. 

If, by the stress of numbers, we should ever be compelled to a tem- 
porary withdrawal from her limits, or those of any other border 
State, we will return until the baffled and exhausted enemy shall 
abandon in despair his endless and impossible task of making slaves 
of a people resolved to be free. 

Let us, then, not despond, my countrymen, but, relying on God, 
meet the foe with fresh defiance, and with unconquered and uncon- 
querable hearts. 

Jefferson Davis. 

The, proclamation was a characteristic cll'asion of the san- 
guine disposition of the President. While wallcing the streets 
of Danville, he was met by two gentlemen who had occupied 
offices in one of the Departments of Eichmond, and who now, 
with visible anxiety, but with great respect, asked him if lie 
had yet received any news from Lee's army. " No," replied 
Mr. Davis ; " but, gentlemen, no news is good news under the 
circumstances, and General Lee probably knows what to do 
witli the enemy, without consulting me." And, with a smile, 
he added, "Make the most of your holiday, gentlemen, for 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 511 

we'll soon have you at work again." AVhat miracle could be 
thus have expected from Lee ? What transformations of 
public opinion, that the authority and civil routine of the 
government were thus easily to be resumed ? It was the evi- 
dence of a fatuity, the example of a blindness, proof against 
that enlightenment which is supposed to be afforded Avhen 
misfortune wreaks its worst and last — the illumination of the 
past which the kindness of nature grants before the moment 
of death — the period of eclair cissement at the close of the life 
drama, when the entanglements of the plot are loosened, and 
nothing remains but the expiring hero and the final catas- 
trophe. 

Even when the news of the surrender of Leo's army got to 
Danville (which it did on the 10th of April), Mr. Davis was 
not yet ready to aband^on hope. But it was noticeable that 
the exaltation of spirits he had obtained, alter having passed, 
as he conceived, the boundary of danger, and got on the side 
of supposed personal safety, did not long survive. With 
courage again impaired by the nervous haste and trepidation 
of flight, and Avith hopes diminished, but not extinguished, 
the President and his party, on the news of Lee's surrender, 
tui'ued their faces to the South. They travelled by railroad 
to Greensboro', North Carolina, and here the President 
paused to obtain an interview with Generals Johnston and 
Beauregard. Something of assurance might be obtained from 
them ; they might appeal to their soldiers not to lay down 
their arms, as Lee's troops had done ; and if once could be 
effected only the semblance of continuing the war, the ex- 
ample of such a resolution, ov, ])crliaps, a victory, no matter 
how small or obscure the field, would rally the confidence of 
the people in its vicinity, and spread gradually through the 
country. Such were the weak speculations of the Pj-esident. 
Sorrowfully, General Breckinridge, undertook a journey on 



512 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

horseback to General Jobuston's camp, to acquaint bim witb 
tbe President's desire for an interview ; moved by the earnest 
entreaties of Mr. Davis, pitying tbe fallen cbief, to wbom be 
bad been so near in office, but well knowing tbat bis mission 
was vain, and sbaring none of tbe fluttering bopes of Mr. 
Davis, or of tbe vivid delusions wbicb tormented tbe last 
days of bis official life. 

At Greensboro' occurred an episode on wbicb every candid 
reader of tbe bistory of tbe war, no matter wbat bis stand- 
point, must put a condemnation, and wbicb no Southern man 
can remember, without affixing it witb a stigma of shame. 
There is nothing which tests character more truly than the 
fall into misfortune of a friend or of an enemy. Surely a 
mean nature is never more despicable than in its maltreat- 
ment of misfortune, and its cowardly refuge, on such occa- 
sions, in old resentments, or in selfish calculations. There 
were many in the South who dissented from the government 
of Mr. Davis, who were hostile to bis administration, who 
gave him no confidence and bore him no affection, as a ruler; 
yet even among these, tbe truly noble and the sincere could 
have respected the misfortunes of the President, when they 
found bim a distressed fugitive. They would have obeyed 
the promptings of but an ordinary human generosity, to have 
visited him at the stages of bis distressed and weary flight, 
to tender some hospitality, or to offer an honorable condolence. 
But even such manifestations of humanity did a North 
Carolina town, containing several thousand souls, refuse to 
show to the man who, but a few weeks before, bad been their 
supreme magistrate and chief, who was yet such under the un- 
expired forms of the Confederacy, and who now came among 
them a broken, aged fugitive, making a feeble flight from 
the enemy, and encumbered with a helpless family. Por 
nearly a week, while remaining at Greensboro', the President 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 513 

andhis family lived in a box-car on the railroad^ having no other 
shelter ! When lie arrived, not a house in Greensboro' was 
open to him. Not the slightest hospitality was ofiered ; and 
if any thing could be added to the shame of this cruel neglect 
and insult of the unhappy President, it was the cowardly 
excuse made by the citizens, that they were unwilling to 
alleviate his distress, or, indeed, to offer him shelter, because 
they feared that the enemy, on some future visit to this 
humane and honorable town, might resent it. But for the 
honor of humanity, there occurred one exception to the 
shameful exhibition of a North Carolina community ; and it — 
as the reader may anticipate — came from a woman, a lady 
well qualified by her social position and worth to rebuke 
conduct of such infamy and cowardice. It was not until 
some days after his arrival that Mrs. C. S. L'Hommedieu, a 
lady residing in Greensboro', and well-known in society as 
the daughter of Dr. Tooley, of Natchez, Mississippi, learned 
that the President was in town, ignominiously housed in a 
box-car, and shunned by the citizens, except those who visited 
him from brutal curiosity ; and this true and brave lady at 
once addressed him a note, begging him to make her house 
his home, and to honor her by commanding any thing in it 
The President had to decline the invitation, as he was then 
making preparations to depart ; but he was deeply affected ; 
in no circumstances — to his credit be it said — was he ever 
unmindful of what Avas due from the fine and generous breed- 
ing of the gentleman, and, although hurried in his departure 
from Greensboro', he did not omit to address to the lady a 
beautiful letter of thanks, anxious to commemorate, and 
unable otherwise to reward her goodness and generosity. 

The resumption of Mr. Davis's flight toward the South 
was in consequence of what had taken place in his interview 
33 



514 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

with Generals Johnston and Beauregard. It was- an inter- 
view of inevitable embarrassment and pain. The two Gen- 
erals were those who had experienced most of the prejudice 
and injustice of the President ; he had always felt aversion 
for them ; and it would have been an almost impossible 
excess of Christian magnamity if they had not returned 
something of resentment and coldness to the man who, they 
believed, had arrogantly domineered over them, and more 
than once sought their ruin. We have seen how unceretno- 
niousl}^ and cruelly Johnston had been hustled off the stage 
at Atlanta. True, he had now been restored to command ; 
but under circumstances which made it no concession to the 
public, and no favor to him, for he was restored only to the 
conduct of a campaign that was already lost, and put in com- 
mand of a broken and disorganized force that Sherman had 
already driven through two States. When some time before 
public sentiment was demanding his return to service, he 
wrote bitterly that ho was quite sure that if the authorities at 
Richmond restored him to command, they were resolved not 
to act toward him in good faith and with proper su})port, but 
to put him in circumstances where defeat was inevitable, and 
thus confirm to the populace the military judgment of the 
President. lie liad no reason to thank Mr. Davis for his present 
command in the forests of North Carolina, where the President 
had now come to him to ask little less than a miracle at his 
hands. As for General Beauregard, his painful relations with 
Mr. Davis had been public gossip ever since the battle of 
Manassas. There had been, too, a recent unpleasantness, fresh 
in the minds of both, on account of General Beauregard 
having evacuated Charleston against the orders of the Presi- 
dent ; although Avhat idea the latter could have had, within 
the limits of sanity, in attempting to hold this city after 
Sherman's army had flanked it, is difficult to imagine. 



SECEET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 515 

These three men were now to meet, to consult of tbe con- 
dition of the conntry ; and the occasion invoked that they 
should rise above personal feelings in the circumstances of a 
great public sorrow and anxiety. There was obtained for 
the interview a mean room on the second floor of a house 
owned by a Confederate officer. Mr. Davis sat cold, dioni- 
fied, evidently braced for an unpleasant task. He spoke m x 
musing, absent way ; and it was remarked that, while speakin J 
he never looked toward either commander, his eyes beiiro- 
amused by a strip of paper which he was twisting in his 
hands. His heart must have beat with a great anxiety for 
he must have known how much depended on these Generals 
countenancing his plans of continuing the war ; and yet he 
spoke as one who had merely resolved to state his case and 
who cared not to influence the decision one way or the other 
It was as If he had said openly to his Generals, " if you decide 
to continue the war, to keep your armies in the field well 
and good; but understand, it is no obligation conferred uoon 
me, I shall regard it as no concession to me." And yet 'his 
heart^ secretly hung on their replies, and beneath his cold 
exterior the practised eye might have seen the deep under- 
play of the nerve, the flutter of suppressed emotion 

The President spoke at great length. General Johnston \ 
sat at as great a distance from him as the room allowed He 
was evidently impatient; he knew what was comin^ • he had 
anticipated all that the President said before he h'ad come 
into the room, and he listened as one oppressed with the ful- 
ness and readiness of reply. Yet, when the President stopped 
speaking, he remained profoundly silent. "General John- 
ston," Mr. Davis said, "we should like now to hear your 
views." It was a reply that came with a bluntness and defi- 
ance that brought a sudden color to the cheeks of the Presi 
dent. "Sir," blurted out General Johnston, ''my views are 



516 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

that our people are tired of tlie war, feel themselves whipped 

i and will not fio-ht !" In these few words he had said all that 
V 
was necessary ; and he spoke them suddenly, without preface. 

But he continued to speak in short, decisive jerky sentences, 
as if in haste to deliver his mind. He suggested that the 
enemy's military power and resources were now greater than 
they had ever been. What could the President hope to 
oppose to them in the present demoralized condition of the 
South? "My men," he said, "are daily deserting in large 
numbers, and are taking my artillery teams to aid tbeir 
escape to their homes. Since Lee's defeat they regard the 
war as at an end. If I march out of North Carolina, her 
people will all leave my ranks. It will be the same as I pro- 
ceed south through South Carolina and Georgia, and I shall 
expect to retain no man beyond the by-road or cow-path that 
leads to his house. My small force is melting away like 
snow before the sun, and I am hopeless of recruiting it. We 
may, perhaps, obtain terms which we ought to accept." 

A silence ensued. It was broken by the President, saying, 
in a low, even tone : " What do you say. General Beaure- 
gard ?" " I concur in all General Johnston has said," he 
replied. 

There Avas another pause in the conversation, when 
presently General Johnston, as if regretting the cruel plain- 
ness of his remarks and thinking he had wounded enough 
the unhappy President, who was still twisting abstractedly 
the piece of paper in his hands, proceeded to suggest, at some 
length, the hope of getting favorable terms from the enemy. 
He thought it would be legitimate, and according with mili- 
tary usage for him to open a correspondence with General 
Sherman, to see how far the Generals in the field might go in 
arranging terms of peace. Mr. Davis could not but be sensi- 
ble of the wisdom of this suggestion, although he listened 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 517 

coldly to it, and it was very little of consolation for the de- 
struction of such towering and grotesque hopes as he had 
brought into the interview. General Breckinridge, who had 
been present at the whole of the interview, now ventured to 
advise that General Johnston should at once, and on the spot, 
address a letter to Sherman to prepare an interview. "No,'* 
replied General Johnston — probably anxious to show a marlj 
of deference to the President, out of pity for the mortification 
already inflicted upon him — " let the President dictate the 
letter." The letter, proposing a suspension of hostilities, was 
dictated by the President. And thus Mr. Davis himself, 
virtually subscribed the token of submission of the Con- 
federate army, second in importance and numbers to that of 
Lee ; yet unwilling to go further in the sequel, and to write 
gracefully his entire submission to the inevitable. 

On tlie 16th of April, the President, his staft" and cabinet ' 
left Greensboro'. It was a slow travel in ambulances and on 
horseback, and the dejection of the party was visible enough. ' 
Mr. Davis was the first to rally from it. When he and his 
companions had left Pichmond, it was in the belief of the 
majority that Lee could avoid surrender but a few da3's 
longer, and with the intention, as we have already said, of 
making their way to the Florida coast and embarking there 
for a foreign land. The President had clung, at Danville, to 
the hope that Lee might effect a retreat to south-western Vir- 
ginia, and he had remained there long enough to see that 
hope disappointed. Again, when he had sought General 
Johnston's demoralized and inconsiderable army, it had been 
from a feeble diversion of hope that it might not yield to the 
example of Lee's surrender, and that, under the inspiration 
of the presence and the direct command of the President, it 
might be induced to keep the field. That expectation had 
been brought to a painful end ; and it appeared as if the 



618 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

President would be recommitted now to tlie original design 
of fleeing the Confederacy, and would now make an earnest 
effort at escape. But liis mind was disordered and undecided; 
and it was distressing to see bow he hesitated between assured 
safety in flight from the country and the possible hope that 
the cause of the Confederacy might not be beyond redemp- 
tion. Anyhow, there were no signs yet that he was pursued 
by the enemy ; and he had appeared to consider himself sure 
of ultimately making good his escape, after he had once got 
out of sight of Richmond. lie had shown great trepidation 
in getting out of the capital, but in the leisure of a journey, 
unmolested by pursuit and entertained by the fresh air and 
pleasing sights of spring, he had time to recover, to some 
extent, his self-possession, and to cast about for something to 
be saved from the wreck of his hopes. 

In the meditations of his journey through North Carolina 
the fugitive President, although anxious for his personal 
safety, appears to have conceived the alternative of venturing 
to the south-west, within reach of the forces of Taylor and 
Forrest, in the hope of reviving the fortunes of the Confede- 
racy within a limited territory. He suggested the alternative 
to General Breckinridge, as they travelled together, after the 
news of Johnston's surrender, but received only an evasive 
reply ; the latter not sharing his hopes, but unwilling to 
mortify them by a candid declaration of opinion. Mr. Davis 
was remarkable for a sanguine temperament, but it was that 
which we observe in weak characters, "hoping against hope," 
fickle, flaring, extravagant, rather than that practical energy 
which renews itself on disaster and conquers fortune. The 
vision he had conjured up of a limited Confederacy around 
the mouths of the Mississippi might have looked plausible 
upon paper, but it was fatally defective in omitting the moral 
condition of the South. The unhappy President had not yet 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 519 

perceived that lie had lost the faculty of encouraging others, 
that the Southern people were in despair, and that, wherever 
he might go, he would find their countenances averted, their 
hopes abandoned, and their thoughts already committed to 
submission. But he was to realize very shortly how morally 
deserted and practically helpless he was. His first discovery 
of it was at Abbeville, South Carolina, where occurred one of 
the most pathetic scenes in history, over which the tenderness 
and charity of some of tlie actors have been disposed to draw 
the curtain, committing its sorrows to secresy. 

Mr. Davis reached Abbeville on the 1st of May. So far he 
had been accompanied by the fragments of five brigades, 
amounting in number to less than one thousand men, and 
reorganized into two battalions, at the front and in rear of 
the long train which signalled his flight and foolishly ob- 
structed his effort at escape. There were already painful 
evidences of the demoralization of the escort, and the story 
told almost at every mile, by stragglers from Johnston's 
command, was not calculated to inspire them. At Abbeville 
Mr. Davis resolved upon a council of war. It was composed 
of the five brigade commanders, and General Braxton Bragg 
(for the year past the " military adviser " of the President) 
was admitted to this last scene of the deliberations of the lost 
cause. 

In the council Mr. Davis spoke with more than his accus- 
tomed facility and earnestness, inspired by hope, but without 
volubility or extravagance. He made a statement of sur- 
passing plausibility. The South, he declared, was suffering 
from a panic ; it yet had resources to continue the war ; it 
was for those who remained with arms in their hands to give 
an example to reanimate others; such an act of devotion, 
besides being the most sublime thing in history, might yet 
save the country, and erect again its declining resolution. 



520 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

" It is but necessary," he said, " that the brave men yet Avitli 
me sliould renew their determination to continue the war ; 
they will be a nucleus for rapid reinforcements, and will 
i-aise the signal of reanimation for the whole country." No 
one of the council answered him at length ; the replies of the 
commanders were almost simk to Avhispers; the scene was 
becoming painful: and it was at last agreed that each in his 
turn should announce his decision. Each answered slowl}'-, 
reluctantly, in the negative ; the only words added were that 
though they considered the war hopeless, they would not dis- 
band their men until they had guarded the President to a 
place of safety. 

"No," exclaimed Mr. Davis, passionately, "I will listen 
now to no proposition for my safety. I appeal to you for the 
cause of the country." Again he urged the commanders to 
accept his views. 

" We were silent," says General Basil Duke, one of the 
council, " for we could not agree with him, and we respected 
him too much to reply." 

Mr, Davis yet stood erect, raised his hands to his head, as 
if in pain, and suddenly exclaimed, "a?Z hope is (joneP added 
haughtily, " I see that the friends of the South are pi'cpared 
to consent to her degradation ;" and then sweeping the 
company with a proud and despairing glance, he attempted 
to pass from the room. 

But the blow was too much for his feeble organization. 
His face was white with anger and disappointment, and the 
mist of unshed tears was in his eyes — tears which pride 
struggled to keep back. The sentiment that all was lost 
went through his heart like the slow and measured thrust of 
a sword; as the wound sunk into it, it left him speechless; 
loose and tottering, he would have fallen to the floor, had 
not General Breckinridge ended the scene by leading him 



SECRET HISTOKY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 521 

faltering from the room. In a dead and oppressive silence 
the deserted leader, the fallen chief, secured a decent retreat 
for agonies which tears only could relieve. 

It was the last council of the Confederacy. The hateful 
selfishness which originates in the attempt of each individual 
to extricate himself from a common misfortune soon broke 
out, no longer restrained by the presence of the President. 
The soldiers Avere discharged ; but they clamored that they 
had no money to take them home. What of the Treasury 
gold that remained was divided among them. So fearful 
were they of marauders that many buried their coin in the 
woods, and in unfrequented places. With the disbandment 
of the troops Mr. Benjamin suggested a separation of the %^ 
Cabinet officers from the President, making an excuse that 
so large a party would advertise their flight, and increase 
the chances of capture, Mr, Davis was left to make his way 
to Georgia, Postmaster-general Reagan continuing to journey 
with him, and General Breckinridge only to a point where he 
thought it convenient to leave for Florida. There were also 
in the party two or three of his staff' officers, and a few 
straggling soldiers, who still kept up some show of an escort. 
Mrs. Davis had already preceded her husband to Georgia, 
and he now travelled slowly, and almost desolately, on horse- 
back, having arranged that she should await him in the town 
of Washington, 

From this place, the now hunted President was soon 
driven again on his journey by news of the occupation of 
Augasta, He had also received news of the assassination of 
President Lincoln, and that event, he declared, confirmed 
his resolution not to leave the country. He inferred from 
the newspapers that he was accused as an accomplice in the 
crime, and he remarked to one of his staff" officers that he 
" would i^refor death to the dishonor of leaving the country 



622 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

under such an imputation." But witli such a sentiment, it 
Avill occur to the reader that it would have been noble and 
decorous for Mr. Davis to have surrendered himself at the 
nearest Federal post, and to have demanded a trial. It 
would have placed him in a grand and winning attitude, one 
becoming a great man, one honorable to himself and the 
South, and redeeming bim more than anything else in the 
eyes of the world. But unfortunately, 'he accepted the base 
alternative of continuing his flight, and that too with the 
artifice of a mean disguise. 

On continuing his journey, accompanied by his wife, 
whom he had overtaken at Washington, it was determined 
that the President and his friends should thereafter travel as 
an emigrant party. Mr. Eeagan was still in his company. 
General Breckinridge had left outside the town of Wasliing- 
ton, taking with him forty-five Kentucky soldiers — a strag- 
gling remnant of Morgan's old brigade. Ten mounted men 
had offered to escort Mrs. Davis, and although they had 
accepted their paroles, justly considered that they might pro- 
tect a distressed lady from marauders. All tokens of the 
President's importance, in dress and air, were laid aside ; 
a covered wagon, pack-mule and cooking utensils Avere pro- 
vided at Washington ; and it was designed that Mr. Davis, 
his wife, and liis wife's sister should pass as a simple country 
family emigrating from Georgia, and having fixllen in with 
straggling soldiers for their protection. Mr. Davis's dignity 
was laid aside without much difficulty. Carlisle says : "A 
king in the midst of his body-guard, with all his trumpets, 
war- horses and gilt stamlard-bearers, will look great, though 
he be little ; but only some Eoman Cams can give audience to 
satrap ambassadors while seated on the ground, with a woolen 
cap, and supping on boiled peas, like a common soldier." 
Mr. Davis, in the dress of a country farmer, had none of these 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 523 

traces of imperialism which cling to those "born to the 
purple." His features, just and handsome, without being- 
remarkable, were those which might command by assumed 
airs, or might be practiced to particular expressions, but 
scarcely those which could assert superiority without an 
effort and at a glance. He incurred but little chance of de- 
tection in the dress he had assumed of an honest, well-to-do 
emigrant. 

But the last device of the distinguished fugitive, tlie only one 
in which he had shown any ingenuity, and had confessed his 
real anxiety for escape, was in vain, and he was captured three 
day's journey from Washington. He had scarcely expected 
to fall in with any enemy north of the Chattahoochie river, 
the boundary of "the department of the Southwest," and 
there he had designed to part with his wife, and to commit 
her to her journey to the SJieno.ndoah. He was overtaken by 
a small body of Federal cavalry, originally sent out to post 
a skirmish line through that part of Georgia, reaching to 
Augusta, but now diverted to his pursuit. 

The wicked and absurd story that Mr. Davis Avas captured 
disguised in female attire is scarcely now credited. He was 
aroused in the early grey of the morning by a faithful negro 
servant (the same who has since attended his broken fortunes), 
who had been awakened by the sound of firing in the woods. 
The President had not laid off his clothes, and, in a moment, 
he had issued from the tent where he had been sleeping. The 
Avoods were filled with mounted troops, ill -defined in the mist 
of tlie bj-eaking morning, and, noticing that they Avere de- 
ploying, as if to surround the camp, he quickly imagined 
their character and design, and returned within the tent, 
either to alarm Mrs. Davis or there to submit decently to cap- 
ture. Slio besought him to escape, and, urging him to an 
opening in the tent, threw over his shoulders a shawl which 



524 LIFE OF JEFFERSOX DAVIS, WITH A 

be had been accustomed to Avear. His borse, a fleet and 
spirited one, was tied to a tree at some distance. lie was 
within a few steps of tlie animal that might have borne him 
out of danger, wlien a Federal soldier halted him, and de- 
manded to know if be was armed. 

In relating the encounter afterwards, in bis prison at 
Fortress Monroe, Mr. Davis reported himself as saying. " If I 
were armed you would not be living to ask the question." If 
be did say so, it was a sorry bravado— and, as none of his 
captors appear to have recollected such words of defiance, we 
are permitted to hope that Mr. Davis's memory is at fault, and 
that he submitted to his fate really with more dignity tlian be 
claims for himself. While be was parleying with the soldier, 
Colonel Pritchard, commanding the body of cavalry, rode up, 
and, addressing him by name, demanded bis surrender. Not 
one of his escort or companions came to his aid. He sub- 
mitted, walked back to the tent, and, iu the presence of his 
wife, asked Colonel Pritchard that she might continue her 
journey. The reply of the Colonel was that bis orders were 
to arrest all the party. Mr. Davis rejoined, with sarcasm : 
" Then, sir, what has been said is true, your government does 
make war upon women !" These were the only words of dis- 
pleasure or of bitterness in the dialogue of the capture.. The 
unhappy prisoner, after these words, was coldly silent. Ask- 
ing no questions of bis fate, not intruded upon by any curiosity 
of bis captors, conversing only with the fliitbful and devoted 
wife from whom be was not yet divided, and whose whispers 
of affectionate solicitude by bis side were all to lighten tlie 
journey, he rode moodily in the cavalcade back to Macon, 
where first be was to learn the extent of bis misery, and to 
commence the dread career of the penalties be bad accumu- 
lated bv four long and bitter years of war. 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE COXFEDERACY. 625 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Mistake of the Federal (jfovernment in the Impiisonment of Mr. Davis — An Intrigue of Secretary 
Stanton — How Mr. Davis Repaired Kis Reputation in Prison — Celebration of bis Release in 
Richmond — \ Transport of Affection for him in the South — Ingenious Kxplanation of the Sen- 
sitiveness of tlie Southern People concerning Criticisms of Mr. Davis — This Disposition Unrea- 
sonable, and really Injurious to the Whole South — Mr. Davis in Canada — A Commercial 
Errand to England — The Ex-President of the Southern Confederacy as a Commission-Merohant 
— The Proposition of an Infamous and Hideous TrafBc in Historical Notoriety — Reflections on 
the Employments of Confederate Leaders since the War — An Important Distinction — Honora- 
ble Example of General Lee — The Prosecution of Mr. Davis Dismissed — An Order of Nolle Pro- 
(cqiti — The Great Significance of this Event — Imperfect Commentaries of the Dull and Barren 
Press of the South — The Discharge of Mr. Davis, the Greatest Triumph the South could have 
Obtained after the War — The Event Important in Three Aspects — Exit of Mr. Davis from the 
Political Stage. 

But little remains to be told of a life, in which the blank of 
imprisonment has been closely followed by the obscurity of 
neglect. 

It has been well said that if the Federal authorities, cap 
turing Jefferson Davis, had turned him loose, or had wisely 
refrained from treating him with invidious or exceptional 
rigor, he would have remained to-day the most unpopular 
man in the South. He would have been subject not only to 
those censures and derisions of his countrymen which assailed 
him in the last periods of his administration, but to the natu- 
ral increase and exasperation of them from the failure of the 
war, and in tlie bitter daily experience of evils, of which he 
would have stood, in the estimation of his people, the chief 
author, the embodied, living cause, constantly displayed be- 
fore their eyes. Such an effect would have been logical ; and 



526 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

the Government at Washington would have been wise if it 
had thus left Mr. Davis to the natural operations of the senti- 
ment of his own countrymen, the results of which would have 
been not only to appropriately puuish him, but to aid the re- 
action, so much desired, in the South in favor of the restora- 
tion of the Federal authority. 

Indeed, it is known that the Federal government was Hi'st 
impressed with this view; that Mr. Davis was not pursued 
through the Carolinas, and that there was every disposition 
to wink at his escape, until Mr. Stanton, Secretary of War, 
procured his capture on an accusation which he probably in- 
vented merely to furnish an immediate occasion for pursuit. 
The true explanation of the infemous and absurd charge 
against Mr. Davis of complicity in the assassination of Presi- 
dent Lincoln is that it was a fictitious process got up by Mr. 
Stanton, to defeat ingeniously the first intentions of the gov- 
ernment towards the distinguished fugitive ; and that, for the 
gratification of his malice, the North had imposed upon it, for 
four years, the embarrassment of an impracticable prisoner, 
and fell into the irretrievable mistake of making him a martyr 
rather than an example. Mr. Davis was pursued as a mur- 
derer, not as a traitor ; but when once the gates of Fortress 
Monroe closed upon him, the Federal Government found 
itself embarrassed by divided public oi)inions in the North, 
urging the most various dispositions of the prisoner, and it 
finally discovered that, so far as the people of the South were 
concerned, instead of "making treason odious " to them in the 
person of Jefferson Davis, it was making itself superlatively 
odious in the character of his jailor and persecutor. 

The imprisonment of Mr. Davis was the best thing that 
could have happened for his fame. What he suffered, lying 
as a prisoner in a casemate of Fortress Monroe for two years, 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 527 

and for the first few weeks degraded by fetters, and especially 
tlie manner of his suffering, not only disarmed much of the 
old resentment of his countrymen, but displayed him in an 
attitude so touching, and in conduct so becoming and noble, 
that, when released on bail in the month of May, 1867, he 
found himself welcomed by nearly every heart in the Soutli, 
and hailed witli a pride and tenderness that his countrymen 
had not before shown him, even in the best of his former 
estate. 

Old enmities were forgotten, old offences were forgiven, 
and not an injurious memory of the past war was allowed 
to disturb the tribute which the whole South seemed now 
anxious to pay to the martyr of " the lost cause." He 
came back to Richmond as one who, by his sufferings, had 
conquered the resentment of his people ; he found himself 
holding a brilliant levee at the Spotswood Hotel, which some 
of the newspapers maliciously compared with the mean assem- 
blies which President Lincoln and General Grant had drawn 
in the same city ; men thronged the hotel, asking to see " our 
President;" and, at last, such were the demonstrations of 
popular affection, that the judicious friends of the pleased re- 
cipient had to compel him to desist from encouraging them, 
for fear that they might attract jealous attention at Washington, 
and have the effect of returning him to the pain and obscurity 
of his prison. 

This transport of public opinion in the South concerning 
its ex- President, is easily explained. Mr. Davis had certainly 
borne imprisonment with a dignity scarcely to be expected 
from him. The actual extent of his sufferings, the patience 
with which he bore them, his brave abstention from the 
common complaints and revilings of the prison, at once en- 
treated for him the pity of his countrymen, and commanded 



528 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

their admiration. Again, tlie North committed the mistake of 
making him an exception to the general rule of its treatment 
of the leading men of the Confederacy; from this point it was 
easy for his countrymen to imagine liitn as a vicarious suf- 
ferer, bearing punishment for the sins of the whole South ; 
yet further, this liabitual view easily passed into the romantic 
regard of him as an impersonation of the cause of the 
Southern Confederacy ; and it is remarkable that, in this re- 
gard, the argument or the invocation is most frequently made 
that any severe criticism of Mr. Davis from Southern sources 
is to be deprecated and resented. 

This is probably the whole ingenious explanation of the 
recent transport of aftection of the Southern people for Mr. 
Davis, and its extreme sensitiveness to any commentary on 
the errors of his administration. It contains an illogical ar- 
gument — one naturally heard most from the women of tlie 
Soutli and persons of weak mind ; and it makes an appeal 
mixed with the transitory passions and interests of the day, 
and utterly unwoi'thy to touch the severe conscience of the 
historian. His duties to Jefterson Davis are the same as to 
any other actor in history ; and paltry, indeed, is the idea 
that he should withhold any truth for fear of wounding the 
sensibilities with which a living generation of men would con- 
ceal the chief actor among them. And sensibilities, too, 
utterly mistaken as we account them ; for we hold that Mr. 
Davis, so fer from being the impersonation of what was good 
and reverential in the lost cause of the South, represented only 
its follies and the reasons of its failure ; and if we have striven 
to make clear any particular point in this work, it is that tliat 
cause is best to be vindicated, and the merit and honor of the 
Soutli maintained therein, on the liypothesis of the unwortlii- 
ness of the man who presumed to conduct it, and avIio sacri- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 529 

ficecl and betrayed in it the true courage and virtue of his 
countrymen ! 

On his enlargement on bail, Mr. Davis, after a brief stay in 
Richmond, and an unpleasant visit to New York, retired to 
Canada. Thence, in the summer of 1868, he proceeded to 
England, in pursuance of an oft'er of a commission house in 
Liverpool to take him in as a partner, and thus afford him a 
handsome pecuniary profit or bonus. The terms of this sin- 
gular proposition, as reported in the newspapers, were that 
Mr. Davis was to become a member of the house referred to 
without the contribution of any capital, and that he should 
continue to reside in America, if he preferred to do so, repre- 
senting the interests of the firm at New Orleans. On arriving 
in England, Mr. Davis did not find the house of that character 
as to induce the advertisement of his name in connection with 
it ; and, partly through the persuasions of friends who recog- 
nized the offer attempted to be imposed upon his credulity or 
his avarice, as a disreputable advertising "dodge," — a scheme 
of trading through the name of the ex-President of tlie 
Southern Confederacy, — the matter was dropped, but not until 
it had obtained for Mr. Davis considerable scandal. Since 
then he has been residing, alternately, in England and in 
France, living quietly but comfortably; his descent into ob- 
scurity being rather faster than most of revolutionary refugees, 
who have generally continued to be objects of curiosity after 
having ceased to excite any other interest. 

But although Mr. Davis declined the peculiar adventure in 
commercial life just referred to, it is greatly to be regrefted 
that he ever entertained it ; that he ever came near to a de- 
scent so unexampled from that historical heroism and dignity 
which he was expected to support in the sight of Europe and 
the world. His commercial errand to England was, indeed, 
34 



530 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAA^S. WITH A 

a mortifying episode; and for some time it was feared by his 
countrymen that the unfortunate ex-Pi'esident of the South, 
at the end of his public career, might fall to exhibiting the 
dregs of his character, in a way to shame them as well as to 
disgrace himself. The people of the South have always 
prided themselves upon their nice and delicate observances 
of honor, and, in this respect, Mr. Davis had been their master 
of ceremonies, their pattern of deportment, the very prince 
of punctilios. It would have been excessively awkward if he 
had turned out to be an excellent accountant of pelf, doing 
precisely at Liverpool what the South has so often reviled as 
"the Yankee trick" of utilizing public and social advantages, 
turning such to the mean account of dollars and cents. The 
world would have accused him of selling out his historical 
fame, and turning the Southern Confederacy into a tradesman's 
advertisement ! He had not money enough to buy an interest 
in a large commission- house ; he had no skill or experience 
in commercial affairs ; there must have been some considera- 
tion for a place so lucrative as that temptingly offered to him ; 
and in the range of human speculation, it could have been 
none other than that Mr. Davis had formerly been President 
of the Southern Confederacy ; and that there was a certain 
available commercial notoriety in that bulk of blood and 
tears of a despairing people that the American member 
would contribute to the firm ! 

We admit something for the exigencies of misfortune. A 
oankrupt cannot be select in his choice of occupation. But 
ceftainly it would have exceeded all that could be allowed in 
this respect, that the former ruler of a noble and cultivated 
community should descend to a commission merchant, with 
his capital in trade a historical name, and his profits accruing 
out of the eight millions of people who had served him in a 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACV. 531 

disastrous cause. There is something inexpressibly low and 
offensive in the idea. History demands, even in the extremity 
of misfortune, a certain dignity from those who have shared 
in its lofty^cenes. If Mr. Davis has been compelled to choose 
a hard and honorable poverty, it is far better than that he 
should have accepted this gilded shame in the streets of 
Liverpool. There are many ways to fortune ; but Mr. Davis 
could scarcely find one so easy and degraded as that of spell- 
ing his name iu golden letters, and selling out his historical 
fame as commercial capital. It is this barter which would 
have been offensive to honorable instincts — not the grade of 
employment, as long as it was honest. There are those who 
will say that it is both decent and noble for any unfortunate 
man to win his livelihood from a sacrifii;e of his pride ; that 
labor is honorable, and that the day is past when even the 
insolent aristocracy, in which Mr. Davis was bred, may deride 
the vulgarity of trade. We shall not dispute on these points. 
Labor is honorable ; it has been decorated by modern opinion. 
But the true and precise complaints of those who deprecated 
the descent of Mr. Davis to the counting-room, was that the 
former chief of the Southern Confederacy, as partner of the 
Liverpool commission house, would have meanly avoided 
labor by a commercial sinecure, the place of a distinguished 
loafer, in which he might live on the reputation of the past. 
It would be said, and apparently not without justice, that he 
had sold his name and that of his people purely as an adver- 
tisement, to avoid the real and honorable exigencies of labor. 
What is historical dignity, what the glory of heroes, what all 
the noble proprieties of a nation's misfortune, when the chief 
of eight millions of people might hang out a tradesman's sign- 
board over all of it, and make of the grand catastrophe a 
hrst-rate commercial advertisement ! 



532 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

The case of Mr. Davis tlius employed and that of other 
leading men of the Southern Confederacy, working in obscure 
occupations for a livelihood, are essentially different, in the 
fact of the latter being really engaged in labor, and being 
really capable of the services which they undertake to render, 
and which they actually perform. If General Johnston 
manages a railroad, or if General Lee supervises a college, 
they are capable of doing the duties required of them ; there 
is a real service, a real consideration for which they are paid. 
But if General Lee is offered a large sum of money to have 
his name appear in some money-making enterprise, where his 
services would be nominal, and only the benefit of his name 
was sought — and it is notorious that he has been thus tempted 
by joint-stock concerns, insurance companies, etc., in all parts 
of the United States — he would wrong his conscience, and 
shame his great reputation in history to accept it. The dis- 
tinction is interesting and valuable. If we have asked the 
reader's attention at some length on the subject, it is not to 
pursue an old and trite speculation about the rights and 
honor of labor, etc., or, yet, to indulge in an essay, however 
interesting, on the decline and fall of historical characters, 
but to indicate a question of great practical importance in the 
present condition of Southern society, where so many persons 
are thrown back upon resources of livelihood much below 
their former aspirations and habits, and where some safe rule 
is reqviired to determine the question of dignity in these de- 
scents of fortune. We believe that such a rule is suggested 
in the distinction we have made between Jefferson Davis seek- 
ing a sinecure partnership in a commercial firm, and other 
Confederate leaders engaged in occupations much below their 
former positions, yet rendering in them actual and capable 
services. There can be no "general guide as to how the dig- 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. 533 

nity of a past career may bo maintained in poverty, beyond 
the plain consideration that a man, fallen from his former 
estate, may with honor betake himself to those resources of 
livelihood Avhich are most becoming and most decorous within 
the limits of his remaining faculties and opportunities. Surely 
it is to be hoped that within those of Mr. Davis, however 
slender may be his remnants of pecuniary fortune, some re- 
source for his age may be secured — if even in the open 
charity of his countrymen — more honorable than that of ad- 
vertising member of a foreign trade-firm. 

After nearly four years of hesitation — after a most injurious 
exhibition of doubtfulness and weakness — the North has 
managed to rid itself of the awkward prisoner Avhom the 
stupidity or blind rage of Mr. Stanton imposed upon it. At 
the term of the United States Circuit Court, held in Eich- 
mond, December, 1868, a nolle prosequi was entered in the 
case of Mr. Davis, as on an indictment for treason, and the 
prosecution on that charge, at least, was thus dismissed. 
This conclusion had been foreseen, or it had been strongly 
imagined ; yet it was the occasion of much rejoicing in the 
South, and of not a little disembarrassment and relief on the 
part of the North. The newspapers of the South teemed 
with congratulations of Mr. Davis ; but they have generally 
stopped there in the apprehension of the event, and have been 
singularly deficient in their commentaries on it. 

Indeed, it is very surprising that the vast importance of 
this event, as affecting the morale of the past war, and as 
involving the whole political history of the country, should 
have escaped the apprehension of the press of the South ; 
and especially, too, when it is apparently so much concerned 
to discover whatever there is of hope and encouragement for 
this section, and affects so much the tone of optimism in 



53i LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, WITH A 

public affairs. The most important triumph that the South 
could have possibly achieved since the war, the most signifi- 
cant event that has happened since its close, the most inter- 
esting revelation that has lately been given to the world 
from behind the scenes of our political history, has been 
overlooked by a dull and barren press. The mere congratu- 
lations affecting the person of Mr. Davis, with which tlie 
newspapers have generally stopped short in their com- 
mentaries on the abandonment of his prosecution, are utterly 
inconsiderable, compared with the true significance of this 
event, and the extent of the triumph of the whole South on it. 
There can be no doubt that the North would liave been 
glad to exact of Mr. Davis the furthest penalties of the law, 
if it could have made out a case for the prosecution ; that it 
was immensely anxious to convict him. There were thou- 
sands in the IS'orth who even clamored for his blood, and 
many who would have been glad to doom him to the cell of 
the felon. This, to be sure, was a mistake; for, as we have 
already suggested, it is the kind and degree of punishment 
that determines whether the victim shall be an example or a 
martyr, and that the true economy of punishments is their 
moderation. But for the thousands who thus demanded the 
severity of the laws upon Mr. Davis, there were millions who 
desired his conviction in another and indispensable sense — 
that of " making treason odious," that of obtaining a moral 
vindication of the North in the past war, and securing the 
future in its interest. The extent of the anxiety of the JSTorth 
to procure such a vindication — all, indeed, that was wanting 
to crown the great victory of its arms, and to complete its 
satisfaction — has never been fully confessed. It has scrupled 
at nothing. Its whole government in the South is based on 
the idea of justifying the war; and its system of test-oaths in 



SECRET HISTORY OF THE CONFEDERACY. OoO 

that section was probably designed, as well as for other 
reasons, to obtain a factitious declaration of public opinion 
there, in favor of the legitimacy of its past contest of arms. 

The full sense then of the abandonment of the indictment 
of Mr. Davis for treason, is the confession of the Xorth, that 
it despaired of obtaining such a justification of the war on its 
side as would have been implied in his conviction ; and, in 
even proportion to this confession, the claim of the South that 
the balance of justification was on its side, that it held the 
vantage ground on whatever questions of law the Avar in- 
volved. Here is a vast admission, and it is as unequivocal 
as it is important. The trial of Jefferson Davis was the trial 
of the North. It was to determine whether a man could be 
punished as a traitor for acting on an opinion which had 
divided three generations of Americans, and even the founders 
themselves of the Federal Consti^tution ; Avhether the party 
and sectional dogma on which the North had waged war, 
could be affirmed on the legal decision of a constitutional 
question. Such a trial the North has declined. It has 
shrunk from the august arbitration on which it once proposed 
to enter in sight of the world to " make treason odious ;'' it 
has feared to risk the question whether it had really any 
superiority over the South in any respect but that of number 
of its arms ; it has decided not to attempt, even at its own 
judicial bar, the justification of its cause — the determination 
whether the war was the invocation of a violated Cmistitution, 
or the temptation of sectional hate and ambition ; and it 
leaves to the South whatever implications may arise fi"om the 
facts of its rival having withdrawn his challenge and aban- 
doned the contest. 

The release of Mr. Davis has become one of the most im- 
portant events of his life — not so much so with reference to 



636 LIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS. 

his own fortunes, as in its application to the whole political 
history of the country. It is interesting in three aspects. It 
sugoests a vindication of the cause of the Southern Confecleracv 
— such a vindication as is to be desired next to success ; it 
supplies some reflections npon the permanence and vitality 
of the old schools of American politics ; and it has the sur- 
prising and most remarkable effect of exhibiting a tendency 
of the American mind to the conservatism of the past, in the 
midst of the public passions of the day — of disclosing an under 
current in the mad career to Consolidation that is apparently, 
but not really and entirely sweeping every thing before it. 
Perhaps the South may think herself too ready to despair of 
her record in the war and of restoration to something of her 
ancient rights, since she has seen the chief of her so-called 
"rebellion," a defiant and feared litigant in a Federal court 
of justice, and walking forth released, even from accusation. — 
Such is the significance of the last public attitude of Jefferson 
Davis — such the unexpected loftiness and interest of his exit 
from the stage of American politics. 



THE END. 



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